With Grace
by Guevera
Summary: After Kate’s death, Tony feels so alone, but when Gibbs shows up with some mysterious documents, it puts Tony into a spin. What was Kate hiding from the rest of her team? Chapter 21 is up!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own the character of Grace; all other characters are owned my DPB and Paramount.

Summary: After Kate's death, Tony feels so alone, but when Gibbs shows up with some mysterious documents, it puts Tony into a spin. What was Kate hiding from the rest of her team? And why would she risk everything for the sake of her secret?

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"**With Grace"**

**Chapter One**

Tony reached into the fridge for another beer, just one more, he thought, maybe one more would drown his sorrows, maybe make it all seem clearer.

It was a week since Kate died. A week since he lost her. He was confused, he never knew he felt this way about her, until it was too late. Maybe it's like that old saying, _"you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone." _

Tony headed back to the darkened lounge room, beer in hand, and was just about to sit down when he heard a knock at the door.

Tony dragged himself over to the door, looking through the peephole, _Great, someone else to check up on me, _he thought with a sigh.

With beer in hand, Tony unlatched the heavy wooden door and swung it open, "I don't need your sympathies Gibbs, I'm fine."

"You look like crap, DiNozzo."

Tony raised an eyebrow, "Gee, thanks a bunch boss."

"I'm not here to offer sympathies DiNozzo. You gonna let me in?" Tony hesitated for a split second before shuffling aside to let Gibbs in. The older man entered, looking at Tony's apartment, up and down. He eyed off the photos on the mantle place, photos of Tony's family members, he guessed. "Nice place," Gibbs offered, while Tony headed to the dark lounge room and plonked down on the sofa with his beer.

"What do you want boss?" he asked, before taking another swig of his beer.

Gibbs walked up to Tony, flicking on the light switch on the wall. Tony grunted and shaded his eyes, "Did you have to do that? I was enjoying the darkness."

Tony squinted before lifting the beer bottle towards his mouth. Gibbs took it off him and placed it on the coffee table.

"You've had enough."

Tony groggily shook his head, "Don't you tell me when I've had enough. You can't control everyone's lives, ya know boss?"

"How are you holding up DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

Tony grunted, "What are you, my shrink? I've had enough of those."

Gibbs nodded, "Yeah, we all have, but now I'm asking you."

Tony sighed. The truth was, he wasn't great. There was this feeling inside of him, a squeezing, like someone had a vice-grip on his heart, squeezing every ounce of energy out of it. But the alcohol helped with that. What it couldn't help with was that feeling of loneliness Tony had in the pit of his stomach, a feeling that nothing will be right again.

Tony shrugged, "I'll be okay, boss." Gibbs nodded; he knew it would take a long time for everything to be okay again, but Tony's friends were there for him. He just needed reminding of that.

Gibbs perched himself on the armrest of a chair, before reaching into his pocket and drawing out a piece of paper.

Gibbs cleared his throat, "Tony, before Kate died, she gave me this, she wanted you to have it." He held a white envelope in his hands, before handing it to Tony.

Tony looked at Gibbs, "What is it?"

Gibbs didn't answer, instead he got up off the chair and turned to exit the room, "I'll leave you alone to read it. Now, where do you keep the coffee?" Tony pointed towards the kitchen cupboards as Gibbs went off to find a caffeine hit.

Tony sat down in his chair, turning the envelope over. It had a single word on it, _Tony_, written in Kate's neat handwriting. He couldn't open it, the memories flooded in, her smile, the sound of her laughter. Oh God he missed her.

Tony carefully opened the envelope, making sure not to damage its contents. There was a letter inside, beautiful paper rimmed with flowers and butterflies. Tony smiled, _That's so like Kate…_ he thought, as he directed his eyes towards the top of the paper. It was dated a few weeks before she died, when Tony himself nearly died from pneumonic plague. He directed his eyes towards the top of the page…

-------------------

_Tony,_

_I wanted you to have this if anything ever happened to me, so I guess that's why you're reading this, hey? I gave it to Gibbs because I knew it would be safe with him…_

_There are so many things that I wish I could say to you, but I'm confused. The way I feel about you, I've never felt about anyone else. Sure you can be a real bastard sometimes, but I can't help it. I love you Tony. I don't know if you love me, but I want you to know that I'll always stand by you, no matter what. _

_Just promise me something Tony? That you will stick by Gibbs and the team, and lay off McGee a bit will you? He's trying his best. Make sure you take care of Gibbs; he's not as tough as he makes out to be. Listen to Ducky's stories; he's a wise man. And Abby, look after her, and make sure she lays off the Caff-Pow a bit!_

_Oh Tony. I wish we could be more than friends, but you know our job won't allow it. __And Tony, take care of yourself. _

_I love you, always, __Caitlin Todd_

_xxoo_

_--------------------_

Tony folded the letter up, his vision blurred as he put it back in the envelope. _Oh Kate, _he thought, _I love you to; I have for a long, long time…_

Gibbs appeared at the doorway, he was concerned for the younger man. Gibbs reached into his pocket, pulling out a tissue. He handed it to Tony, who accepted it.

"Tony, there's something else. I talked to Kate's lawyers, they wanted you to know something…"

Tony looked at Gibbs, he looked sad, not at all like the Gibbs he knew. Sure, the man was grumpy, but not _sad_. Gibbs handed Tony another folded document, which Tony read. Gibbs watched his reaction.

Tony's mouth dropped open.

"How could this be possible? Kate would have told me about something like. She would have…" Tony closed his eyes at the memory of her, the vice-like feeling on his heart gripped even harder, like someone was squeezing it with all the power they could manage.

Gibbs half-smiled, "She didn't tell you everything Tony. Maybe this was something she needed to do on her own." He looked at the younger man. Gibbs never knew how Tony felt about Kate, even though he had his suspicions.

Tony stood up, wiping his damp eyes on his shirtsleeve, "Now what boss? The paperwork's all in, but…" Tony trailed off, turning away from Gibbs; he didn't want his boss to see him crying.

"You'll have to talk to Kate's lawyers about that, but what I can say, as she put your name on those documents. She cared about you Tony, a lot. More than she could ever say."

Tony glanced over the document, his eyes focussing on one word.

"Grace."

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**A/N: So what do you think? What's Kate's secret? And who's Grace? R&R!**


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Same as in chapter one, don't own any of the characters from the show, etc.

A/N: Rating is for mild language. If there's any spelling mistakes try to ignore them, this was a quick chapter, and I didn't have time to go over it again and again, I just didn't want to leave my wonderful readers hanging in the air like that for any longer! Oh, and to my wonderful reviewers – thank you! You've all been so good and helped me for inspiration for chapter two! And I know that some people said that Tony isn't acting at all like himself and that he wouldn't have that type of reaction (because he didn't in the episode), but that will be explained later in another chapter. There is a reason for his behavior! And I'm glad that you liked the cliffhanger – so just who is Grace? Just wait and see…

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**Chapter Two**

Tony closed his eyes. Gibbs had left some time ago, figuring Tony might want some time alone to think.

But the truth was he didn't know what to think. _Grace, _he thought, _who is she?_ Tony needed to know, but what if he was too late? What if this Grace didn't want to know him? He was talking rubbish, he knew that. It was just the alcohol talking.

Tony slowly opened his eyes and opened the document which was still clasped in his hand. He scanned the page for the names of the lawyers but the words all swirled together. He rubbed his eyes, which helped, as the words slowly came into focus. _Robinson & Mills, _it read, and a phone number. He should call them, he thought; find out what these documents meant. Find out who Grace is.

Tony reached for the cordless phone on his coffee table, and in the process knocked Kate's letter off the table. He lent down to pick it up when he noticed something glistening near the leg of the table. He picked it up and examined it. It was a necklace with a shining silver charm. He examined it more closely, but it wasn't easy as the image blurred once more. Tony rubbed his eyes and held it up to the light. It has a thin silver chain and a delicate charm in the shape of the letter "E".

_Where did that come from?_ Tony thought.

He figured it must have fallen out of the envelope with Kate's letter, which must mean it has some significance. Even in the mottled light and with his blurred vision Tony's investigator skills kicked into action. He examined the back of the charm, making out some initials, but they were too small to see without some kind of magnification. Most likely jeweler's initials, he thought.

He'd get that checked out tomorrow though, Tony thought, as he started dialing the number of Kate's lawyers. He waited a few seconds, only to slam the phone down in frustration when all he got was a recorded message. He doubted they would have been in at this late at night anyway.

_Damn it Kate, why'd you have to be so cryptic!_ He thought, as his eyes drifted shut, the silver necklace entangled in his hand.

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Tony awoke the next morning with a hangover and a major headache. He felt like someone was bashing him over the head with a hammer.

He raised his hand to face when suddenly he noticed something. The necklace, he recalled. Suddenly all the events of last night swarmed in at once, _Oh my God,_ Tony thought.

"Grace" he said out loud.

Tony got up and went into the kitchen, his head thumping in time to each step. He turned on the tap and watched the water rush out, twisting and swirling. That's what he felt like right now. Everything swirling around in a mass of colors and emotions. All mixed up. He took some painkillers for the headache and dragged himself into the shower.

Ten minutes later he was showered and dressed. He'd thrown on a pair of jeans and a grey sweater as he trudged out the door. He figured he'd be better off going to the office, using their resources to dig up any clues.

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Tony arrived in the bullpen at around 10am, heading straight for his desk.

McGee was sitting at his desk and had seen him come out of the elevator. "Uh, boss…" he trailed off as Gibbs turned around to face a groggy and very hungover DiNozzo. Gibbs got up out of his chair and went over to support Tony as he wobbled over to his desk. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Tony sat down, "Relax Gibbs, I'm not here to work."

"Then what the hell are you here for? You look like crap."

Tony chuckled, "Yeah? Well I feel like a million bucks."

"You're hungover," Gibbs looked over to McGee, who's eyes quickly darted back to the paper on the desk, "I'm surprised they even let you into the building."

Tony gave an odd chuckle, "I flashed 'em my gun, they seemed to see it my way."

Gibbs sighed and rolled his eyes, "Sit down then DiNozzo." But Tony quickly shook his head then quickly realized his headache hadn't fully gone. "Ow." He said as he clasped his head in the palms of his hands.

McGee noticed Tony's distress and frowned with concern, "Tony are you feeling okay?"

"Shut up probie." Tony hissed angrily, not at all feeling in the mood for his concern. They didn't understand. How could they?

McGee looked hurt and uncomfortable. The phone rang and he quickly answered it, glad to have something else to think about.

Gibbs was still hovering above him, showing an odd amount of concern. Kate was like a daughter to him, and he understood Tony's pain. He was acting very un-DiNozzo-like, but Gibbs figured that he was only coming to terms with his relationship with Kate, And now that she's gone he felt kind of lost. How can anyone comprehend what it feels like to experience the feeling of losing someone you've only just realized you loved?

"DiNozzo, give me the papers, I'll talk to the lawyers. You go get a coffee or something. A strong one." Gibbs said as he received the papers from Tony and held them out in front of him, squinting to see the numbers.

"9456-8445," Tony said, almost robotic-like, "I've dialed it enough times to remember it boss," Gibbs frowned and McGee's jaw involuntarily dropped, "Photographic memory probie."

Gibbs chuckled, "I knew there was a reason I hired you…" He scooped up the papers and headed for the stairs.

"Boss?" Tony called out. "MTAC," Gibbs replied ad he headed to the door with the words "MTAC – Restricted Area" printed on the side.

Tony glanced at McGee, who shrugged, "Guess he wanted to call in privacy." McGee said.

Tony raised his hands in protest, "Privacy? Why do I bother…" Causing McGee to give him a confused look, but Tony refused to elaborate.

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In the MTAC room Gibbs had dialed the number for Kate's lawyers and tapped his fresh cup of coffee impatiently on the desk as he waited for someone to answer. Finally they did, and Gibbs told them who he was and about the papers he had in his hands. They knew what he meant immediately, and transferred him over to a man called Thomas Knight.

Mr. Knight tried to explain the situation to Gibbs, who was getting antsy. "Look," he said, "I hope you understand I'm a busy man Mr. Gibbs…"

Gibbs cut him off, "_Special Agent_ Gibbs. And no, I don't understand. One of my best agents is dead! Now I want you to find out what the hell these damn papers mean, is that clear?"

Mr. Knight cleared his throat awkwardly, "Sir, I…" But Gibbs wasn't hearing any of it, "Don't you sir me you bastard now you either tell me now or I'll be talking to your superiors." Gibbs heard the other man muttering colorful words to himself as he shuffled papers. "Ah, Special Agent DiNozzo, is he there with you? I can't talk to anyone else but him… protocol, you know."

Gibbs sighed, "Screw protocol, you tell me who Grace is, _now._"

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In the other room McGee had gone off for a coffee break, leaving Tony to pace up and down awkwardly in the hall. Finally after what seemed like hours Gibbs came out of the conference room and headed towards an expectant DiNozzo. "Well?" he asked.

Gibbs shook him head, "I talked to Kate's lawyers."

Tony shuffled awkwardly, "_And?" _

Gibbs hesitated, "_And_ nothing," he looked down, "It was a screw up, nothing to tell…"

Tony laughed awkwardly, "Nothing to tell, ha! Funny boss, real funny." Gibbs just shook his head, refusing to go into it anymore. He knew Tony didn't believe him, but after what the lawyers said, and with Tony's condition, he didn't see it in DiNozzo's best interests to learn the truth.

"You're bluffing." Tony said.

Gibbs sat down at his desk. "The secret of a good bluff -"

"- is not to bluff. Yeah boss, I _know._"

Gibbs nodded, "I know you do DiNozzo, that's why I'm telling you now, there's _nothing_ to tell."

Tony laughed awkwardly, trying to make eye contact with Gibbs, who refused to look at him. "C'mon boss -"

Gibbs bashed his fist against the desk, making Tony jump, "Damn it DiNozzo I am _ordering_ you to leave this alone."

Tony scoffed, "_Ordering_ me? C'mon boss, I know you're not telling me the whole story," he lowered his voice, "I thought you at least would understand how I feel!"

"Understand? No, DiNozzo, I don't think I do. Maybe you should enlighten me." Gibbs said sarcastically, watching the expression on the younger man's face. Tony just shook his head.

"Maybe I was wrong to come here," Tony said as he got up from the desk, "I thought you'd understand, I thought I could trust you!" Tony grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and headed for the elevator. Gibbs watched him go, wondering whether to follow him or let him be. He was worried about Tony. He was getting too involved in all of this, and he looked like he hadn't slept in a week. Gibbs wanted to know about Grace almost as much as Tony did, but he understood when to let go.

Gibbs got up, "DiNozzo!" Tony turned around as he neared the elevator. Gibbs headed over to him and held out a small business card. "I can't tell you any more, but the lawyers gave me a number. I thought it might be a combination to a locker or something. I mean it could be anything, it might even mean nothing. Now you _know _we can't investigate this, but the lawyers thought you might know what it means." He handed it to Tony who looked at the number.

Tony closed his eyes tightly and gasped inwardly.

"Oh my god."

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**A/N: What could the numbers mean? I promise you it's not going to be another numbers thing like in Lost… LOL! Thanks so much for all your reviews for the first chapter, they helped a lot! More reviews please! **


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Same as always, don't own any of the characters from the show, etc.

A/N: Rating is for language.

Thanks for all the reviews guys! WOW! I've never gotten so many before! I tried to update as soon as I could, hope you like it… R&R

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**Chapter 3**

Tony dug into his pocket for his car keys and pressed the button to unlock the doors. He lowered himself into the car, being careful not to make his headache worse by moving too fast.

Tony sighed; he knew what these numbers meant. He memorized them over and over in his college days. But the thing that Tony couldn't get his head around was - how did Kate know them? And why did her lawyers want to know what they meant?

Too many questions, too little time. He almost wished that Gibbs hadn't turned up with the documents; that he didn't even know about Grace. _Grace_, what did he know about her? She could be anything, _it_ could be anything.

Tony started the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, the piece of paper still gripped tightly in his hand.

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Tony had gotten more than halfway back to his apartment when he realized he had forgotten to show Abby the necklace. She'd be able to magnify the initials and trace where it had come from. He could do that later, tomorrow maybe. He doubted that they'd let him into the building a second time, especially now he looked just as tired as he was hungover.

Tony yawned, his vision blurring. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and flicked on the left-hand indicator as he turned onto the freeway. Man he was tired. It would be just his luck if he was pulled over right now, hungover, tired and not in the mood to co-operate. He switched lanes to the one on the right, cursing as a black Monaro also changed lanes, dangerously close behind him. _What's this moron doing? _He thought.

Tony looked in his rear-view mirror, catching a glimpse of a man in dark clothing, most likely a suit, and dark sunglasses. He was trying to act inconspicuous as Tony again switched lanes, the Monaro switching with him. It wasn't unusual behavior for cars to constantly switch lanes in order to get a better, clearer run, but this guy in the Monaro wasn't acting normal. Tony decided to test the other car by switching lanes, then speeding up, and slowing down. There was no doubt, he knew was being followed.

He decided against going back to his apartment, because if this guy really was following him it would just be too risky. First of all though, he had to get off the freeway. Tony flicked the indicator once again as he left the freeway and went into a side street, the Monaro following his every move. He pulled out of the side street, heading straight for a set of lights. He cursed when they changed red before he could get through, _Damn it. _Tony thought. He looked in the rear-view mirror again, the man in the other car didn't move, although Tony bet he knew he'd been sprung. Finally the lights changed to green and Tony pulled out of the position, the Monaro casing his every move. Tony pressed the accelerator harder, then decided enough was enough. He grabbed his cell phone and flipped it open, the screen flashing to life. He pressed "2" on speed dial, Gibbs' name flashing up on the screen. Tony held the steering wheel with one hand while he waited impatiently for his boss to pick up.

"Agent Gibbs' phone," the voice said.

"McGee?" asked, "What are you doing with Gibbs' cell?

"Tony? Uh, he left it on his desk while he went out for more coffee. I thought I should answer it for him." McGee replied hesitantly.

Tony laughed, "You know he'll kick your butt of he finds out?"

McGee made a kind of grunting noise, realizing it was true. Tony continued, "McGee I've got this guy following me, he's in a black Monaro and he looks kinda hinky."

"Hinky? You've been spending too much time around Abby."

Tony hissed into the phone, "McGee! I-Am-Being-Followed." He spelled out slowly.

"Yeah? Well… What do you want me to do?" McGee asked. Tony sighed, "I don't want _you _to _do_ anything probie. Get me Gibbs." Tony gripped the wheel tighter, the Monaro edging closer, _This bastard is trying to run me off the road!" _he thought.

"Uh, Tony he's not here, I told you that…" McGee answered. Tony squeezed the phone in frustration, "Yeah, well GET HIM McGee! Or else I'll -" Tony stopped, his tires skidding dangerously along the road. The Monaro sped up, tapping the back of Tony's car, and then dropping back. Tony went silent; he dropped his cell, holding the wheel with both hands as the Monaro sped up again, this time hitting Tony's car with more force. The car skidded, mounting the curb and zooming dangerously close to a power pole.

"Shit!" Tony cursed, but the Monaro hit him once more, harder this time. Tony's car skidded then spun to the side, crossing lanes. The last thing Tony saw was a red SUV centremeters away from his car, then blackness. Just blackness.

McGee heard the noise, but he didn't know exactly what caused it. He heard Tony curse, then horns blaring and a terrifying smashing sound of metal-on-metal.

"Tony!" McGee called into the phone, but all he heard was a hissing sound, before the phone line went dead.

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Gibbs got back to the bullpen ten minutes later than he would have liked, coffee cup in hand. He was unusually chirpy as he headed over to his desk. McGee was standing behind his own desk, phone in hand. His hair was scruffed up and his tie had been taken off, thrown carelessly to the ground.

"McGee?" Gibbs asked, placing his coffee cup on his own desk before heading over to McGee. The younger man's face was as white was a ghost. "Boss, Tony called, he said a guy in a Monaro was following him."

"Yeah? And?"

McGee hesitated, "I think he might have been in an accident." Gibbs froze, "Well what the hell are you doing just standing here? Did you call emergency services?"

McGee nodded, "He didn't say where he was, but I put a trace on his cell, his last known position should be pinned down -" McGee stopped as his computer beeped, "Now."

Gibbs picked up the phone and shoved it in McGee's hands. "Call them!"

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The first thing Tony felt was warmth, almost a comforting type of warmth, but there was something just not right about it. He tried to move his legs but all he could feel was pressure on his calves. He could hear a hissing sound, and voices, but couldn't make out what they were saying. The blackness took over again.

The next thing Tony knew he was lying down, voices were everywhere and the images blurred in front of him. Shades of red and blue, flashes of light, then darkness. He didn't know where he was. All he knew was he didn't feel any pain, just a smooth drifting feeling. _Blackness._

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"_He's asleep right now, we gave him something to knock him out for a few hours. It'll give the painkillers the best chance to work. He doesn't have internal bleeding, or any breaks, as far as we can tell, he's been very lucky. We're going to keep an eye on his head scans, as it's a high probability he's got a concussion, but all in all, he's not too bad."_

Tony tried to open his eyes, but it felt like someone had strapped on two tonne weights to his eyelids. He could still move around, and he tried to wiggle his toes, relief washing over his when he realized they still worked. Where was he? The last thing Tony remembered was driving in his car, then calling the office, then red. Just red. The red soon turned into blackness, then pain.

He sensed someone walking into the room, someone familiar. "What have you done now DiNozzo?" the voice asked. He recognized it, heard it everyday. The same tone, almost sarcastic and irritated. Gibbs.

Tony grunted, forcing his eyelids open, they were red and swollen but he still managed. "That's no way to treat someone who's just been run off the road, boss."

"DiNozzo." He said, "Nice to see you back in the land of the living. Abs will be here soon, she was as worried as hell about you. Gave her quite a scare. I couldn't shut her up she was that hysterical." Gibbs chuckled quietly, "So, how are you feeling?"

"Like a guy in a black Monaro tried to run me off the road." He replied, groggy from the painkillers. "Looks like he succeeded too." Gibbs replied. He told him that they were already checking it out, and so far had found 42 black Monaros registered in the D.C. area – it's take some time to narrow it down.

"So, what's the diagnosis?" Tony asked. Gibbs told him exactly what the doctor had said, and that they wanted to keep him in overnight for observation. "Great." Tony replied, he didn't want to wait around in a hospital all night being poked and prodded by a bunch of doctors. He was going home.

Tony tried to sit up, but Gibbs quickly stepped in, "Hey! You're not going anywhere DiNozzo."

"But boss -" Tony began. "DiNozzo, I'm not arguing with you. I'm _ordering_ you to say here, okay?"

Tony laughed half-heartedly as he put his head back down on the pillow, "you're doing that a lot lately. _Ordering_ me to do things."

Gibbs scoffed, "I'm your boss DiNozzo, it's what I get paid to do," he smiled, "And anyway, if you actually did something that I asked you to do for once then maybe I wouldn't have to."

Tony grinned, and half closed his eyes.

"Get some rest Tony. The others will be here soon." Gibbs said as he turned to exit the room.

He'd be out of here tomorrow, then he could take the necklace to Abby and get her to check it out. _And_ the documents. _And_ the numbers. Too much information and too little time. Plus he was dog-tired. He'd think about it all tomorrow

_Tomorrow_. He thought as he drifted off to sleep.

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**A/N: Reviews people! And I promise the next few chapters will answer some of your questions! I'll try to update asap, but I'm pretty busy, so every few days to a week I promise to get a new chapter out… And for this chapter I decided not to leave it as a cliffhanger, as much as I desperately want to, because 3 cliffhangers in a row _might_ be too many! lol! R&R**


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Same as always, don't own any of the characters from the show, etc.

A/N: Rating is for language. Sorry I haven't been updating much, it's just I'm busy with school and everything. I'll try to get more chapters out quicker, but no promises. :)

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**Chapter 4**

Tony woke up to the early morning light as it seeped through the blinds. He had to take a moment to look around, remembering where he was and why he was there. The sunlight came through the window, reflecting on some piece of equipment in the corner of the room. He noticed that it formed four bright rings on the ceiling. It's not the sort of thing that Tony would have given much thought to in the past as usually he's too busy doing other things to stare at the ceiling, but there's very little to do in the hospital. Tony's not accustomed to inactivity, so he quickly grew tired of the TV in the corner of the room, and the hoards of magazines that Abby had brought in. Tony found himself lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling because he simply doesn't know what else to do.

There's nothing particularly interesting about the rings, just four concentric circles glowing a pale yellow against the harsh white of a hospital ceiling under fluorescent lights. They're merely a point of focus as his mind wanders, casting about for an interesting topic for a while before it gives up and lets him doze until breakfast, briefly escaping the boredom.

Gibbs had come in one morning, knowing that Tony would probably be awake. Tony reckoned he felt guilty about the accident, not that it was his fault or anything. Gibbs felt guilty over Kate's death, and now, after Tony's accident, it really hit him hard that at any moment any of his team could be gone.

Its not visiting hours, but the nurse who catches Gibbs is nearing the end of her shift so she lets him in. Gibbs smiles gratefully at the young redhead woman as he neared Tony's room. Gibbs walked up to the end of the bed and looked around the room, momentarily pausing as he thinks of something to say. Tony's got his eyes closed, hoping that Gibbs would give up and leave, as he didn't really feel in the mood to talk. And knowing Gibbs, he'd probably want to interrogate him about one thing or another.

He looked at Tony; he had an IV stuck in his arm, looking sorry for himself. "Hey DiNozzo." He said.

"Hey boss," Tony hesitated before he answered, hoping that Gibbs would lay off the questions. Instead Gibbs pulled up a chair next to the bed.

Tony waited for the other man to continue, but when it became apparent that he had no intention of saying any more than he needed to, Tony took the ball and ran with it. "Since you're not going to ask questions," he said and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the bed, "then I'll ask you some."

Gibbs grinned slightly. "Shoot."

Tony cleared his throat, "You give the necklace to Abs?" he asked. Gibbs nodded, but didn't elaborate. "Well?" Tony prompted.

"We got the jeweler, if that's what you're wondering. A guy in Baltimore."

Tony frowned, "Baltimore? That ain't exactly in our backyard boss." Gibbs shook his head, "I decided to save you the work and go myself."

Tony frowned slightly, "Why?" he asked, "I mean, like you said, it's not in our jurisdiction." Gibbs thought he detected a slight sarcasm in his voice, but pushed it aside.

"It was my day off. Thought I'd do you a favor." Gibbs replied. Tony raised an eyebrow, wondering why Gibbs was suddenly helping him out. "You know something else, don't you?"

Gibbs shrugged, "You know damn well that I can't tell you anything DiNozzo."

Tony signed heavily, "Fine. Whatever." He said simply, brushing it aside. He hoped that by looking like he didn't care that Gibbs would tell him more. Gibbs remained silent; he was too smart for that, Tony thought. "Just say something dammit!" he exclaimed furiously. Gibbs raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. Tony sensed that he was worried about him, and not just because of the crash, but there was something else. Maybe he knew something but didn't want to tell Tony in case it hurt him more. Perhaps, Tony thought, but it didn't seem all that likely.

"We're on the same damn side, Tony. You said it yourself." He chuckled. Gripped by a powerful and clearly insane urge to tell all, tell everything, Gibbs ploughed on and didn't stop to consider that anything he said could cost him his job.

"Same side? What do you mean by that?" Tony fired at him angrily. Gibbs hesitated, not expecting a sudden outburst from Tony.

"I mean," Gibbs began, "That you don't have to treat me like the enemy."

Tony scoffed, "Maybe I have good reason to, huh?" Tony winced, immediately regretting that comment. He lowered his voice, "Boss, please, I need to know what you know."

Gibbs looked at Tony, seemingly considering it, "I'll get my ass kicked if I tell you anything."

Tony raised his arms in the air, as if in defeat, "Boss, just TELL ME dammit!_"_he exclaimed, rather loudly. A passing nurse stopped in the doorway, "What are you doing in here, sir? You know visiting hours don't start for another half hour or so."

Gibbs turned to look at her, "I was just leaving anyway, miss."

"Boss…" Tony began, but Gibbs but him off.

"DiNozzo! You've gotta learn when to let go. Okay?" Gibbs exclaimed furiously as he got up out of the chair. Tony leant forward and scoffed, "Let go? This is coming from you, a former marine? I thought marine's never gave up?"

Gibbs went quiet, then replied in a soft yet fierce voice, "Don't you ever bring that up Tony, there's a difference between letting go and giving up. Think about it."

Gibbs turned to leave the room, giving Tony one last look. Tony wanted to fire back at him, but remained silent. _Damn it! Why is everyone keeping secrets?_

Tony watched Gibbs leave the room, then leant back and closed his eyes. He had to get out of here, find someone that could help him. It seemed obvious to Tony that Gibbs wasn't going to help him. He opened his eyes and looked down at the IV in his arm. He HAD to get out of here NOW. Tony grabbed the IV cord tightly and braced himself as he ripped it out of his arm. He grabbed his clothes off the end of his bed and threw them on.

He was going to get the answers himself.

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**A/N: What does Gibbs know? And why is he keeping it a secret from Tony? Ooooh everybody's got secrets here, guys! **


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Same as always, don't own any of the characters from the show, etc.

A/N: Sorry I took so long to get this out, it's just I've got exams and I really can't dedicate as much time to this as I'd like. Exams are horrible, so when they're over I can spend as much time as I like on this! Yay! Thanks for sticking by me readers, you're the best! I'll be doing some flashback scenes with Kate in them soon, and I'll bring Ziva in later, just to make Tony's life even harder. Poor guy, I'm really hard on him, aren't I? lol! Well anyway, you'll see everyone asap, and there'll soon be a very good explanation as to why Tony's acting like he is, and why Gibbs refuses to tell Tony anything! Grumpy old Gibbs! Hehehe.

Shutting up now. R&R

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**Chapter 5**

Tony rubbed his arm where the IV cord had been. It hurt like hell and he regretted yanking it out like he did. He scooped up his backpack and shoved his belongings inside, heading out of the room.

Tony rounded the corner without looking and almost bowled over a young redheaded nurse, the same nurse that let Gibbs in before visiting hours. He apologised to her quickly, hoping that she wouldn't ask him too many questions. She was just about to hurry off when she looked at Tony's arm, his shirt sleeve stained with blood.

"What happened here?" she asked him. She put down the bundle of folders she was carrying and examined Tony's arm. Tony winced as she prodded him. "You're a patient, aren't you? Please tell me you didn't rip the IV out yourself…"

Tony grinned, hoping she'd just leave him the hell alone, "Ahhh… well, you see, I wasn't really in the mood to hang around here waiting for a doctor…" He looked at her nametag - Nurse Olivia Ingham. He thought that name sounded familiar, but couldn't really pin point it…

Nurse Ingham, who was still holding his arm, squeezed it tighter when she realised he was looking at her chest. "Hey!" Tony protested as she squeezed even harder.

"Quit it, okay?" she told him sternly. She had quite a grip for such a petite woman, he thought. Tony tried to explain himself, "Hey I was just… your nametag, you see…"

"Hmph, don't even bother, I know your type."

Tony laughed, "_My type?" _he repeated, "No, seriously, have we met?" She gave him a look, "Trust me, I'd remember you."

Tony turned his head to the side in thought. "Nurse Emma! That's why I thought I recognised you – you're not replated to Navy Nurse Lt. Emma Ingham, are you?"

She looked up at him, he mouth dropped open, unsure of what to say. She grabbed his other arm and looked at the band on his wrist, "Oh no… You're _that_ DiNozzo?"

He smiled cheekily, "Uh huh, she talked about me?" Olivia nodded, "She told me about the plague episode, nasty. You're lucky to be alive."

"So everyone keeps telling me." He replied.

Olivia looked at him, studying his face. "Emma said you were cute, she wasn't kidding."

Tony flashed her a smile as Olivia let go of his arm. She rolled her eyes and sighed as she pulled out a clipboard from amongst the pile of folders and handed it to Tony. She motioned him to sit down, "If you're going to check out let's do it the proper way, hey?" He nodded, checking boxes and signing his name at the bottom. "There ya go" he exclaimed.

Olivia checked over it and nodded silently. Tony got up and surveyed Olivia, grinning to himself. "Get out of here, Emma's already warned me about you." She tried to sound stern, the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile. Tony saluted her as she walked off, backpack slung over his shoulder. Olivia watched him go, laughing to herself as he headed towards the exit.

Tony checked over his shoulder but Olivia was gone, so he passed a corridor near the exit. He noticed a young brunette woman standing around the corner. She was looking in Tony's direction, but he thought nothing of it until she ducked out of the way when he smiled at her. He stopped and watched the space where she was standing until she appeared again. She noticed Tony looking at her and turned away anxiously. While it wasn't unusual for him to catch the attention of many women, this young nurse looked scared and vulnerable, not at all like most of the women he knew. She had long brunette hair swept back into a ponytail, tied hastily at the back. Tony couldn't help but notice that she was very pretty, with smooth skin and a petite build. He looked at her eyes, blue as the ocean, but with a depth like he had never seen before. They were kind of sad and sunken, a vastly different contrast to the magnificent blue.

He headed towards her, but she just faced the other way, desperate to avoid him. "Hey, wait up." He called. The woman ignored him and headed for the big glass doors to the nurse's station. "Wait, I just wanna talk to you."

She stopped, looking at him with those sunken eyes, "What?" she said accusingly, looking at Tony once again.

"Do I know you?" he asked. He felt like he was asking that question a lot lately.

She hesitated before answering, "I doubt it." She answered quietly, shuffling uncomfortably where she stood, casting her eyes downwards.

"Why were you watching me?"

The nurse looked at Tony, pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "Because I need you to pass a message onto Kate."

Tony gasped inwardly, unsure if he heard what he thought he did. "Kate?" he said quietly.

"Yeah, can you do that?" she asked.

Tony felt his heart pumping harder in his chest. "Um…no, I…" he stammered. The woman looked at him, "Are you alright?" she asked.

Tony shook his head, "No, I don't think I am," he paused, "Um… who are you? How do you know Kate? And how did you know who I was?" a million questions flowed at once.

"My name's Rachel. Your friend Kate was working on…" she paused, taking a deep breath, "my daughter's case. About eight months ago. And I know you from this…"

She motioned him to sit down, pulling a photo out of her pocket at the same time. She looked at it for a second before handing it to Tony. He took it from her and examined it. What he saw made his heart drop. It was a photo of him and Kate, he had his arm around her shoulders and she was smiling, the smile lit up her face making her cheeks rosy. Her eyes shone as her beautiful dark hair hung gracefully over her shoulders. Tony had his right arm around her, gripping her shoulder tightly. He was smiling as he lent in close to Kate's face, watching her as she smiled happily. Kate didn't resist while Tony had his arm around her, the pink top that she wore complimenting the glow in her cheeks. They looked so happy together.

Tony felt his eyes well up and he rubbed his face with the sleeve of his shirt. "Where the hell did you get this?" he hissed, almost angrily. Rachel was taken a back by Tony's sudden outburst.

"She left her bag at my apartment during the investigation. I looked to see if I could find a contact number to return the bag. I didn't realise that the photo had fallen out of it until after that." She replied defensively. Tony looked down at the photo clasped in his hands. He didn't know where Kate had gotten it, let alone who had taken the photo. And she was carrying it around with her? _Oh god, _he thought, _if only I had known… Kate, why didn't you tell me? _The realisation shook Tony. Had she really felt like this about him?

"Now, please can you pass a message onto Kate?"

Tony looked up from Kate's smiling face in the photo to answer Rachel. "Um…" he began, "Kate's dead." Just hearing the words out loud hurt. He heard the words but they didn't feel like they had come out of his mouth. They didn't sound real.

"Oh my god," Rachel gasped, "How?"

_Damn, why did she have to ask that? _He thought to himself.

"She was shot." He put simply, hoping she wouldn't ask anymore questions. Thankfully she didn't.

"Well… I really needed to tell her something…" Rachel said slowly.

"What was it?" Tony asked, "Maybe I could help?" Rachel shook her head, "I doubt that you could help with this…"

"Try me."

Rachel looked up at Tony. His greyish-green eyes staring into hers. She had wondered about that photo, who the man in it was. He looked incredibly handsome in the picture, but face to face he was even more. Kind of alluring. Rachel felt she could trust him.

"Grace needs help, she's in trouble."

Tony's eyes widened, "You know who Grace is?" he asked the obvious question.

Rachel turned her head to the side, "You don't?" she asked.

"No. I've been trying to find out. She was important to Kate, I think." He explained. Rachel nodded, "Yes, she was…" she looked up at Tony, who's eyes flashed with impatience, "Grace was my daughter's friend…"

Rachel was cut off as her pager beeped loudly. She reached down answer it. "Damn it - Code Blue," she said, "I've got to go, but here, take this…' she handed him a card with her name and number on it, "Call me and I'll tell you what you need to know."

Tony looked at the card and opened his mouth to respond, but Rachel had already gone. He got up and headed for the exit of the hospital.

_Documents, numbers, mysterious children, _he thought, _maybe I should have stayed home and gotten drunk, _he thought with a smile. He headed for his car in the car park and pressed the button to unlock the door. He sat down inside and looked at the photo of him and Kate, in happier times. He wondered if anything would ever be right again.

Somehow, he doubted it.

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**A/N: reviews people! **


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Same as always, don't own 'em.

A/N: I managed to get this chapter out faster than I expected, but I can't promise I can always do that. All I can do is try. Enjoy!

**

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****Chapter 6**

The first thing Tony did when he left the hospital was turn in the direction of NCIS headquarters. He wanted to see Abby and ask her about the necklace, but mostly he wanted to see how she was. She was taking Kate's death hard, especially since they were such good friends. Tony knew that she missed the girlie chats they used to have together regardless if there were any men in the room, giggling and sneaking glances at the looks on Tony and McGee's faces when they brought up topics that made the men cringe.

But lately Abby had been more distant, especially since the funeral. The funeral was beautiful, Kate would have been proud. Tony couldn't help look at Abby, sadly clutching a black umbrella as she walked arm-in-arm with Gibbs. They knew what each other were thinking, those two, and they understood each other's pain over Kate. On the other side of Gibbs was Jenny Sheppard, the new NCIS director, her flowing red hair dangling down her back as she walked with Gibbs and Abby. She tried to understand their pain, but she never knew Kate, so really she'd never understand. Tony knew that Gibbs felt responsible over Kate's death, that he should have done something to ensure her safety. Or that it should have been him. But Gibbs also understood Tony's pain, as Tony felt responsible as well. Really, none of them could have done a damn thing, but they wished that that wasn't the case.

To Gibbs, Kate was a beloved daughter. He was proud of her, he respected her, and in his own way he loved her. They all loved her. He wanted to protect her, keep her safe, always.

To Ducky, she was the granddaughter, as smart as a whip and a joy to be around. He enjoyed her visits down to the morgue, and he always felt better afterwards. Until now. Kate's last visit to the morgue was one that Ducky wished had never happened.

To Abby, Kate was a sister, they enjoyed their girlie talks and their trips to the day spa. They worked as a team, blackmailing poor McGee into paying up for a bet.

To McGee, she was a big sister who stuck up for him after Tony teased him, but only when Tony wasn't within earshot. Kate didn't want Tony to see her sticking up for McGee.

And Tony. Maybe to him, Kate was a sister too, one that he teased and made smart-ass remarks too. But that was at first. Tony couldn't help but notice how beautiful Kate was, how her smile lit up her face, her cheeks glowing with happiness. Tony had hoped that Kate felt the same way, and it wasn't until she was gone that Tony realised that she did…he loved her, but was too damn proud to do anything about it.

Tony flicked on the indicator of his rental car, given to him while his was being repaired. He turned into the car park of NCIS headquarters and stopped the car, jumping out and heading for the elevator. He checked in with security and headed straight to Abby's lab, hoping that Gibbs wouldn't be in there.

He was in luck, Abby was alone, not even McGee was there with her for once. Abby was standing at her computer, fiddling with some cords that were tangled up. "Dammit!" she cried in frustration.

Tony walked up to her in silence. Abby didn't turn around, and either she didn't hear him enter or she just ignored it. "Need a hand, Abs?" he asked her.

Abby turned around, her black pigtails flicking around, "Tony!" she cried, "I was so worried!" she launched herself at him, almost knocking him down in the process.

"Woah, Abs, you're really making a habit of that." He chuckled. Abby loosened her grasp on him, her face close to his. "Well you've got to stop scaring me like that! We've already lost too many..." she started, catching herself quickly. Abby let go of Tony, turning back to her computer to again fiddle with the wires. "Lemme help." Tony said, standing next to Abby.

In no time they had untangled the mass of red, blue and white wires that had knotted together in a clump. "Abby," Tony began, "I'm sorry." He said quietly.

Abby looked at him, "Why are you sorry?"

"Because of Kate. I should have…" he began, trailing off as Abby hugged him again. "Don't. I don't wanna hear it, it's not your fault, okay?" she told him, giving his shoulder a friendly squeeze.

Tony nodded, he knew it wasn't his fault, but he couldn't help feeling responsible in some way. Maybe if he's seen Ari, he could have knocked Kate out of the way. Maybe…

"No Tony," Abby said, as if reading his thoughts, "There's _nothing_ anyone could have done, okay?" Tony nodded again. "You're right Abs."

Abby looked at him, "Actually, I'm sorry too."

Tony frowned, "Why are you sorry?" he asked. Abby looked back at her computer as it hummed away, "I'm sorry for not pairing you and Kate up earlier…"

"What!" Tony exclaimed. Abby looked at him, a wry grin spreading across her face, "Everybody knew how you two felt about each other Tony…"

Tony gave her a lopsided smile, "You knew?" he began.

Abby rolled her eyes, "Duh," she exclaimed, "Everybody knew." Tony's mouth dropped as he gave her an innocent look, "What did she say to you?"

"Ah ha!" Abby exclaimed, pointing a finger at Tony, "I knew it! She didn't _need_ to say anything to me, the way you two looked at each other, with those puppy-dog eyes of yours…"

"'What do you mean, I do _not_ have 'puppy-dog eyes'!" Tony defended himself.

Abby laughed, "Gimme a break Tony! Whenever you two were in the room you went all soulful, it was so sweet, in a mushy kinda way…"

"Abs…" he started, giving her a Gibbs-like look, catching himself for the other reason he was here. "Abby, the necklace, the one that Gibbs gave you…"

"Oh yeah! It was a cinch to trace." She said.

Tony nodded, "Gibbs told me. Do you have it handy?"

Abby nodded and skipped over to the desk on her right. She picked up a plastic evidence bag and pulled out the necklace. "Here you go!" she exclaimed as she handed it to him. Tony received it and took a few seconds to examine it before looking back at Abby. She had been watching him, as if waiting for him to say something. "What?" Tony asked her.

"You planning on telling me what's so important about it?"

"Ah… I don't know. I mean, it was in a letter that Kate wrote. I'm not sure what it means though." Tony replied.

Abby nodded, accepting that explanation. Tony got up and hugged her again, thanking her for helping him out. "No worries, anytime." Tony nodded and flashed her a smile.

-----------------------------

Tony headed for the address of the jeweller that Gibbs had given him earlier. It was a clean little shop with sparkling diamond engagement rings and jewel-encrusted cross pendants. Most of them had large price tags, but there were some at the back that were moderately priced, and Tony spied a few letter-shaped necklace charms like the one he now held in his hand. He headed for the counter where a bald man in his mid-60's stood.

Tony smiled a welcome as he held out the necklace for the man to see, "Do you recognise this?" he asked. The man pulled a pair of glasses out of his top pocket and put them on, examining the necklace. "Ahhh… yes, that's one of mine. Is there a problem with it?" he asked.

Tony shook his head, "No, I just wondered if you remembered who bought it?"

The man looked at Tony for a second, as if wondering why he wanted to know such a thing, then dismissing that thought as he pulled a black book out from under the counter, flicking thorough it until eventually he found what he was looking for.

"I keep count of what I sell, sir… And yes, a woman bought that necklace from me."

"A woman." Tony repeated.

The man nodded, "About a year ago. I think it was for her daughter…"

Tony's ears pricked up, becoming hopeful that he was onto a lead. "You wouldn't have the woman's name, would you?"

The jeweller looked at Tony over his glasses, "Why would you want to know such a thing?"

Tony pulled his ID out of his pocked, flashing the man his NCIS badge. The man smiled, "Well why didn't you say you were a navy man!" he exclaimed, chuckling happily.

"Ahh… It stands for…" Tony began, only to be cut off, "I know what it stands for. I'm a navy man myself. Now, I don't have a name for her, but I do have an address…" he scribbled it down on a piece of paper.

"Thank you, sir." Tony said before hurrying out the door.

--------------------------------

Tony sat in his car outside an apartment block, it was getting dark and the streetlights came on, one by one. He pulled out the piece of paper that the jeweller had given him and looked at it. Yep, it was the right address.

He got out of his rental car and walked up to the apartment doors, pulling his jacket tighter around him as a cold breeze blew. He double checked the apartment number, 2B, and pressed the intercom. He identified himself as an NCIS agent and waited for the doors to open. With a buzz they clicked open and Tony headed up to apartment 2B. He knocked on the door with one hand, clutching the necklace with the other.

The door opened a crack, the chain up the top stopping it from opening all the way. "What?" the voice inside asked.

Tony looked at the occupant, and had to check himself. The woman inside suddenly closed the door, Tony heard a rattling sound, then the door opened again. "Oh my god." She said. She stood there in the doorway, holding a squirming baby boy. The woman was wearing tracksuit pants and a baggy t-shirt, the baby clinging to the sleeve of it. He gurgled happily, his vibrant blue eyes sparkling underneath a mop of dark hair. He looked just like his mother, who also had blue eyes and dark hair, but hers were more familiar. They were sunken and distant, all too familiar.

"Rachel?"

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**A/N: you know the dealio by now, review, review, review. **


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Don't own them…

A/N: Wow, I managed to update this quicker than I expected! R&R

* * *

**Chapter 7**

"Rachel?" Tony said again, his surprise turning to confusion, "What are you doing here?"

Rachel stood in the doorway clutching the baby, he gurgled happily, totally oblivious to Tony. "What do you mean, what am I doing here? I live here." She said dryly, looking at Tony sideways as if preparing to dive out of the way if Tony made any sudden moves. She reminded Tony of a wild animal, terrified and on edge, ready to snap at any moment.

Tony frowned, not sure of what to say, almost wishing that Rachel would let him in and they could just talk. He wished that he wasn't standing here right now, a look of surprise on his face. "You live here?" he asked, feeling the need to confirm what Rachel just said. 'Yeah I do, what do you want?" she asked. Tony opened his mouth to tell her, but she cut him off, "Hang on, how'd you even get my address?"

Tony dug a piece of paper out of his pocket, the piece that had Rachel's address on it. He held it in his hands, Rachel's eyes darting in its direction, trying to read what it said. Tony held it out of sight, "Can I come in?" he asked.

Rachel hesitated, shifting her grip around the baby's middle. She stood aside, holding the door with one hand.

Tony stood there for a second before entering. Her apartment was dark except for a lamp in the corner of the lounge room. She turned and headed down a short hallway, out of sight, calling for Tony to close the door behind him. Tony followed her, a chill creeping up his spine at the coldness of the apartment. He wrapped his jacket tighter around himself and followed Rachel.

She was balancing the baby on her hip when Tony entered, and opening the fridge with the other. She pulled out a bottle of milk and kicked the door of the fridge closed with her foot. The baby gurgled some more, grinning as Rachel proceeded towards the microwave. Tony sat down at the kitchen table and watched Rachel, waiting until she was done with the bottle. The baby boy watched Tony with bright blue eyes, but soon lost interest when he noticed a fly buzzing around the windows. He reached out, causing Rachel to almost overbalance. She cursed, the bottle falling from her hands and popping open, milk spraying all over the floor. "Dammit!" she exclaimed.

Tony got up out of his chair and reached for a cloth on the sink, preparing to clean up the mess. Rachel turned to face him, smiling as she took the cloth from his hands. "Could you hold him for me?" she asked. She was a bit calmer now that she was inside, and wasn't too fazed over a little spilt milk anymore.

Tony liked at the baby, blue eyes, chubby cheeks and a mass of dark hair. He had dark skin, much unlike Rachel's fair skin. Tony figured the baby boy must take after his father. He hesitated, wishing that she'd just let him help by cleaning up the milk instead, "I don't know anything about babies." He replied.

Rachel scoffed, "I don't want you to give birth to one, just hold him would you." She tried to hold back the smile that was creeping onto her lips at the expression on Tony's face. He held out his arms, Rachel handing the baby to him.

Tony held the baby, unsure of what to do next. The baby started to whimper, then wriggle. Rachel looked at him, and assured Tony that he'd be fine, he just wanted his bottle. He'd seen mothers rocking their children before, it seemed to sooth them. Apparently the erratic rocking motions Tony was making were comforting to the infant, for he stopped crying. Tony absent-mindedly patted the baby on his back as he watched Rachel. He stirred for a moment, wriggling a bit, but to Tony's great relief, did not cry.

Rachel finished mopping up the milk and stood up. She rinsed the cloth and folded it up. She smiled at Tony, clearly finding his discomfort amusing. She sat down and Tony handed the baby back to her. "What's his name?" Tony asked.

"Hmm… that's the first thing most people ask." Rachel responded, not really taking much notice of Tony's question. The baby cooed, swinging his chubby little fists around and making random baby noises. She looked up at Tony, he was watching the baby with awe, like he was a pile of $50 bills, not a slobbering child. He was very cute, Tony thought, and for a moment he wondered if Kate had met him too. It gave him a mixed feeling, kind of warm, yet sunken at the same time.

"His name's Max," she replied, "He's eight months old." Tony smiled, looking at little Max. he snapped to attention, momentarily forgetting why he was there. "Um… Rachel, I have a few questions…" he trailed off, Rachel started to frown.

"How about I start?" she asked, but continued on without waiting for a response, "How'd you get my address?" she asked, bouncing Max on her lap.

Tony reached into his pocket for the necklace, pulling it out. He leaned across the table and laid the necklace down. Rachel looked at it for a split second, then without warning jumped up. Max started to cry at the sudden movement, and Tony got up too, standing there with Rachel. He looked worried, Rachel looked at it sideways like it was going to explode, and Max howled even louder.

"Rachel!" Tony called over Max's howls, "What's the matter?"

Tony looked at Rachel, tears welling up in her eyes. He didn't know why she was so upset. She was clinging onto Max, her arm around him as he started to slip. Her hands started shaking like she's just seen a ghost, and Tony took Max from her arms as she collapsed into the chair, sobbing slightly. "What's wrong?" he asked again, going around to the other side of the table to sit next to Rachel. Max stopped crying, his blue eyes welling up with tears.

"Oh Maxie, I'm sorry," Rachel cooed to him, Tony hung onto him, still wary of a relapse with Rachel.

"Rachel." Tony said quietly. Rachel stopped sobbing, but her hands were sill shaking slightly. Tony had never seen anyone react so strangely at the sight of a piece of jewellery.

Rachel gasped slightly, looking at the necklace, "Where did you get that?"

Tony looked at the necklace in his hand, the silver metal glistening as the letter "E" charm spun around at the end of the chain. "You bought this a year ago, didn't you? I went to the jewellers where it was sold; he gave me your address. Only I didn't know it was yours."

Rachel looked at Tony, he was still hanging onto little Max who gurgled once more. "What does the "E" stand for?" Tony asked her.

Suddenly, the phone started to ring. Rachel got up to answer it, reaching for the receiver and speaking into it, "Hello?" she said. Tony listened to her speak, her voice still quivering slightly. Whoever was on the other side spoke but Tony couldn't hear, "No, no, I'm okay. Really I am…" Rachel responded, "No, you don't have to come home, _I'm fine._"

Tony watched her as she spoke some more, then saying goodbye as she hung the phone up. She stood at the desk, closing her eyes and bowing her head slightly. "Everything okay?" Tony asked. Rachel opened her eyes and looked at him, then hurried over. She took Max from him and headed for the door.

"Rachel!" Tony called after her. He followed her, grabbing the necklace on the way out. She was standing at the door when he arrived. She opened it and stood aside.

"Rachel?" he questioned her, "What's wrong?" he seemed to be asking that question a lot lately.

"I'm sorry, you have to go."

Tony frowned, "Why? What was that call about?" Rachel didn't respond at first, a pained expression on her face. She caught sight of the necklace in Tony's hand, "_Please_, just _go_.".

Rachel's face dropped as she caught herself, "I can't talk to you about this, I'm sorry. You have to go."

"Why? You're afraid of someone, aren't you?" Tony asked. Rachel lowered her eyes. "_Aren't you?_" Tony asked again, louder this time, making Rachel jump.

"Stop yelling! What makes you think that yelling will get you what you want?"

"I'm sorry Rachel. Please, I _need _to know who she is." Tony said quietly.

"She got too close." She said simply.

"Got too close? You're not making any sense Rachel."

"Look, I want to tell you, but my husband will be home any minute now and I don't want him to see you here." She said quietly, pushing her dark hair out of her eyes and opened the front door. "Go."

"NO! Look, I've just lost the woman I loved, and this Grace, whoever she is, meant something to her," Tony lowered his voice and took a step closer to Rachel, "Please Rachel."

Rachel looked up into Tony's eyes; she recognized that look, she knew it all too well. A look of pain, loss, and desperation. She nodded and closed the door; Rachel motioned for him to sit down at the circular table. "Grace is a little girl. She was friends with my daughter before…"

Tony took a deep breath. "Before what, Rachel? What happened to Grace?" He watched Rachel as she nervously brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"Nothing happened to Grace, at least she was fine the last time I saw her. No, it was my daughter that got caught in the middle of her problems. That kid was trouble, came from a bad family, druggie parents. A no hoper." Rachel said as she fiddled with a corner of the tablecloth.

"Your daughter, where is she? Please Rachel, I need to talk to her."

Rachel let go of the tablecloth and looked at Tony.

"My daughter's dead."

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**A/N: Who's Rachel afraid of? Who's Grace? What are the numbers? What happened to Ebony? What's Kate's involvement? Why won't Gibbs tell Tony anything? Who ran Tony off the road? Ahhh! The mysteries are engulfing me! - Ahem - Don't worry, it's getting crazy on this end too, I'll revile everything, I promise… hehehehe - evil cackle - **


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Don't own them.

A/N: rating is for language.

* * *

**Chapter 8**

"Dead?" Tony repeated, not sure if he heard it right, "But…" he trailed off, his eyes focusing in on Rachel's, unsure of what to say next. He wanted to ask how, but he was afraid that Rachel would break down again. He looked at little Max; oblivious as usual to anything that was going on. He was only 8 months old, after all. Rachel returned his gaze, seemingly trying to find the right words too. Her little girl was dead, and this man wanted to know all about it. How could she tell him though? It would be like reliving it all over again, like she did every night in her sleep.

Suddenly phone rang; it's shrill call making both Tony and Rachel jump. Max clapped his hands and grinned brightly. Rachel went over to the phone, her gaze never leaving Tony's eyes.

"Rachel Miller" she said, answering the phone. She heard nothing though. Then a deep breath, she knew that sound, when the person on the other end cried so hard she that couldn't speak, it was the sound she would make. "Grace, is everything alright?"

Tony jumped up, "Grace? That's Grace?" he asked frantically, more frantically than he ever had before. He felt this sudden urge to be near Rachel, so she could tell him everything and this nightmare could be over. He stood next to her, a worried expression on his face.

Again though all Rachel heard was her breath, and she knew something was wrong.

She could hear that Grace had been crying, was still crying. "Grace! Talk to me honey!" she begged, fear creeping into her voice. Suddenly Rachel heard a click, and the line went dead. "Oh my god." She said, taking her eyes off Tony as she placed the phone back on the stand again.

"Rachel what's wrong?" Tony asked. "The line went dead." She said simply, her voice quivering.

"It was Grace?" Tony asked her, stepping closer. Max crabbed the zipper at the top of his undone jacket, giggling gleefully. Tony looked down for a split second, before looking back to Rachel.

Finally Rachel nodded. "Yes, it was. I'll tell you everything, but not here." Tony nodded, holding his arms out to collect Max without a second thought. Rachel handed him to Tony and turned to grab a bag filled with Max's baby care items, and two sets of keys. "Come with me." She said, more confident this time, the odd sensation of fear driving her.

She headed for the door with Tony behind her, Max still in his arms. Rachel grabbed her overcoat from the stand and locked the apartment door behind the three of them, and headed down the stairs.

-------------------------

Tony lowered Max into his baby seat in Rachel's car, stepping aside for her to do the buckles up. They would have taken Tony's car, but Rachel's old rusty family van would have to do, as it was the only one with a baby seat. He saw how worried Rachel was, but had decided not to press her any harder for information. Rachel resisted for a second, then smiled gratefully when Tony took the keys off her and proceeded to put them into the ignition. He didn't think she was in any state to drive, and he doubted she'd be as bad as Gibbs when he drove, but he wasn't willing to take that chance.

Tony pulled out of the car park and headed onto the motorway towards the overpass. He followed Rachel's directions until they reached the freeway, then he could get he chance to ask her what he wanted to hear.

"Tell me about Grace." He asked, looking at Rachel for a split second before going back to the road. She nodded slowly, "Grace Rothman is 9-years-old. She used to live in an apartment two floors above mine. She was best friends with my daughter, Ebony, until…" she paused, catching her breath, "…until Ebony was killed."

Tony kept his eyes on the road, "How?" he asked, trying to keep his tone as gentle as possible. Rachel continued, "I don't know. She went missing eight and a half months ago, when I was pregnant with Max. The police searched for her for a few days, but they didn't hold out much hope…" Tony listened to Rachel, her tone quivering.

"Richard – my husband – pulled them off the case. He's a marine, you see, so he wanted NCIS to investigate." Rachel said. Tony was beginning to see how it all linked together now, and why Kate was involved in it all. "Two weeks after Ebony disappeared, they…" she took a deep breath, "…they found her… body. In the scrub a kilometer away from here."

Tony looked at Rachel; silent tears were rolling down her cheeks. "Oh Rachel, I'm sorry."

Rachel rubbed her face on her shirtsleeve and nodded, "Yeah... she was only six years old." Tony swallowed hard, what heartless bastard would do that to a little girl?

He waited a few seconds before asking his next question, giving Rachel a chance to collect herself. "How does Grace fit in?" Tony asked her as gently as she could.

"Well, she was Ebony's best friend. They were inseparable," she gave a half-smile at the thought or the two little girls together, laughing and playing, "Your friend, Kate, was investigating, and she suspected that Grace's father was involved. Shane Rothman, heartless bastard… Poor Grace had to live with that prick."

Tony remained silent, letting Rachel do most of the talking.

"Grace's parents, Shane and Melanie Rothman, are heroin addicts. How they could let that little girl go through what she did, I don't know…" Rachel said, her voice filled with loathing.

"So where's Grace?" Tony asked.

"St. James Hospital." Rachel said quietly, almost to a whisper. Tony turned to look at her, "She's sick?" he asked.

Rachel shook her head, "No, not physically. More like…" she searched for the right word, then gave up, "When Ebony was killed, Grace went into a kind of shock, the doctors said, and stopped talking. Just like that. They call it mute, a psychological condition or something. I don't know. But what I do know is that Grace hasn't talked for eight months."

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When they arrived at the hospital Rachel took Max out of his baby seat and they headed towards the entrance. Rachel headed up to the check-in desk like she'd done it a million times, the receptionist waved and greeted her and pointed in the direction of the west wing of the hospital.

Tony stopped and looked up at a sign swinging above his head, "The psych wing?" he asked. Rachel turned back to him, "There's something I left out… Grace has been committed."

"Committed? What! She's nine years old and she gets thrown into an asylum?" Tony exclaimed loudly.

"Hey! You don't want the whole bloody hospital to hear, do you?" she hissed at him. Tony apologized quickly and lowered his voice, "Please Rachel, you have to tell me everything…"

Rachel nodded and looked around, she saw the sign to a quiet room where people could go and talk about the well being of friends and family. They headed into the room and sat down, Tony well and truly not in the mood for Rachel's messing around.

"Grace was committed to the psych wing here about eight months ago, when Ebony died… She hasn't spoken and no one knows why. Your friend Kate seemed to have a way with the kid, and she managed to get a bit more out of Grace." Rachel said.

"How?" Tony asked her, "If she hasn't spoken…"

Rachel interrupted, "Drawings. Kate got Grace to draw how she felt, and I think that she got more out of her," She stopped and Tony urged her on, "Kate thought that Shane killed Ebony."

"Did he?" Tony asked the obvious question.

"I don't know!" she exclaimed, a few of the nurses looking into the room. Rachel smiled and nodded and they seemed to take the hint, "Now, Grace needs me."

Tony nodded and stood up, "Wait, you've been coming to see Grace? How often?"

Rachel sighed, "Only a few times, when she calls me like she did before. She never says anything but I know it's her. And I think that she's in trouble this time."

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Tony and Rachel arrived at the check in desk, a separate one to the other part of the hospital. Tony smiled at a pretty young nurse at the desk as she directed them to room 22 14 22. The rooms had codes rather than actual numbers like the rest of the hospital, each number corresponding to various different things for each patient. Tony stopped at the white door and stared at the code on it. _22 14 22_. "Oh my god." He said. Rachel came up behind him, "What?" she asked.

Tony stared at the code, then quickly pulled his wallet out of his pocket. He searched in one of the pocket sections and finally found what he was looking forward. 22 14 22, it read. It was the piece of paper Gibbs had given him back at NCIS. The piece of paper that Kate's lawyers had given Gibbs. He had no idea that the numbers would lead him here. He didn't think Rachel needed to know all this, and he just waved it off.

They headed for the door where a blonde-haired man was standing, looking through the glass window. He turned to look at Rachel and Tony as they walked up to him. "Rachel!" he greeted her, Tony giving her a Gibbs-like, wondering just how many times Rachel had _really_ visited Grace.

Rachel talked to the doctor, her tone almost a whisper like she didn't want Tony to hear. Soon enough the doctor had opened the big white door to Grace's room. It swung open, creaking loudly. Rachel turned to the doctor, ho, without words, took Max from her arms and headed off. Rachel turned to Tony then entered the room. She tried to smile, but Tony could see she was terrified, of what, he didn't know.

Rachel tried to smile as she entered the room, looking over to the bed where Grace usually sat. Today it was empty. There, in the far corner of the room sat a little girl, big, brown eyes and a head full of gorgeous dark brown curls. A white hospital gown covered her tiny frame. She was thin and you could see her ribs, but Tony mostly noticed those eyes. They had the same look that Rachel's eyes had when Tony first met her, dark and sunken. Grace sat in the corner, her arms wrapped protectively around her knees. She tucked her head into her knees as Tony and Rachel entered, with just her sunken eyes peeking over the tops of them.

"Grace? Are you alright?" Rachel asked. Grace lifted her head up, her eyes filling with tears. She looked at Tony, then pressed her tiny frame further into the wall like a scared animal. Rachel looked at Tony, then back to Grace. "Honey?" she asked.

Grace's eyes filled up with tears and she released the hold of her arms around her knees and jumped up. Launching herself at Rachel, she hugged her tightly Rachel returning the embrace. "Oh Gracie…" she said, squeezing the little girl tighter.

Grace looked up at Rachel, and opened her mouth like she prepared to speak. The words formed in her mouth, but no sound came out.

Tony watched them as Rachel hugged her tighter. Rachel whispered to Grace, but Tony couldn't hear what she said from his position over by the door.

He strained his ears and managed to catch the words, "Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you again."

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**A/N: review, review, review! **


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Don't own them.

A/N: **This chapter is from Grace's perspective,** after Rachel and Tony have left the hospital. It's a little bit of an insight into Grace's head, what she's thinking and everything, since, well, she doesn't talk… So I thought poor little Grace needed a voice of some sort! R&R

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**Chapter 9 **

The walls were not of magic and myth, not padded, just a bland white paint, which was slowly crumbling and peeling off almost as quickly as the inmates were wasting away inside. The days were customary, and the rules were enforced, but nearly unnecessary, as after awhile, no one had the energy or will to create havoc, because that just meant one more day you were condemned to the quarters, one more day you were living blankly, tackling years to your life, but dragging the life from the years.

The place was dreary, though no one really noticed. The ones who left daily weren't there long enough to care, and the others were there too often to. This wasn't helping, on the contrary, it was hurting. Locked inside an empty room, with an empty soul, your only companion the limitless imagination of your own mind.

She was pale, but dark. She was full, but starved. She wanted to leave...

But she had nowhere to go.

She couldn't run away, because she would be caught, and again, that meant more time she would have to stay. But it didn't really matter, because she couldn't leave. She'd never be released to the freedom and welcome arms of nature, and outside living. Not if she didn't speak again. But how could she, not after she faced the horror of her best friend's murder.

But she knew who did it, she knew.

She couldn't tell anyone though. No one could every understand what it was like to open your mouth and have no words come out. There was so much she wanted to say. So much that mere drawings could not express.

And she knew that she had made mistakes, but she had realized them, and she knew that she was capable of leaving. All she had to do was talk. But how could she, when every time she opened her mouth, a thousand lead-weights pulled her mouth shut. It just simply wouldn't work. She'd heard the doctors talking, as if she wasn't there, they talked about all this. That maybe she _was_ crazy, that she'd _never_ get better.

But mostly, Grace was scared that if she _did _talk, what would come out of her mouth? Would she talk nonsense, or would she make complete sense? The pressure was overbearing on a 9-year-old girl. But she had Rachel. She would help her. Rachel was like a substitute for Kate, where was Kate? Grace remembered the feeling the first night that Kate hadn't visited her, hadn't stopped by to talk to her. It was like someone was shaking her, trying to get all her strength out of her.

It was torture.

But if she _did _speak, would she tell everyone what she knew? Then what? She'd be carted off to family services, where they would place her with a strange family that pretended to love her. And she'd never see Kate again.

But she had nowhere to go, and may as well have had no family. And anyway, no one nowadays took pity on anyone but themselves. And why should they? She had the scars on the inside of her that would never fade. The memories that haunted her every time she closed her eyes, and dreams in her heart that had already died. She'd be no asset.

If she died, no one would mourn her. No one knew her. The others living there, as she had so named them, "The others", didn't care. Why should they? She never spoke to them. It was a dangerous game to play, making friends, as they so quickly came and left, and emotional attachments were one thing that she did not need.

No one except Kate.

But Kate hadn't visited for weeks now, and she may as well have abandoned Grace. Grace felt abandoned.

Rays of light peeked in through the off-white curtains, lighting her ghostly white face a bit, though really the total effect was just like a Halloween Jack-o-Lantern, her face remaining the same, but the sun alighting her eyes and hair, not making them spectacular, like they once were, but bright enough to give her an eerie, unhealthy looking glow.

Judging by how many hours she had been up, she realized she must have woken too early, probably when it was still dark out, because breakfast came at seven every morning. She wasn't hungry, but then again, she normally wasn't, so this didn't bother her or anyone else.

The food quality left much to be desired, and she often felt somewhat amused when she thought of what exactly it tasted like. Kinda bland, yet overloaded with salt. She was luckier than most, since she didn't require medication, but for all she knew they could have been drugging her anyway…

She shouldn't think like that, or she'd never be let out. Grace knew that, but the thoughts spiraled in anyway.

She thought about the food again, which then led her to think about school. She had never that excited about school, not most of the time anyway. Except when Ebony was there. But now that Ebony was gone, she had no reason to be there. When she even was in school, she didn't pay much attention to school food, often preferring to bring her own neatly packed lunch...But the fact of the matter was that she just liked remembering school: it was a good place to her, a place with generally happy memories, and her home away from home. She was a wonderful student: strong and athletic, kind and bright. She was almost, in every aspect, the perfect girl.

So how did she end up here? Living these long months, reminiscing with falling tears.

It was a story she didn't want to bring up, a story which left a lot --too much-- blame on her, and not enough on the people who made her life a living hell, who trapped her into darkness at the worst possible time, and drove her to insanity. She didn't ask for this...

...It just befell her.

The doors in her room locked from the outside, which was rather ironic for all of the times she had been told to make companions, and stop wallowing in her self pity. How would she ever get out if she had to wait for someone to set her free?

Her only solace was a solitary window, which she could open as she pleased, but it was very small, so it was impossible to climb out, and even worse still, with bars across the only escape she'd have for the rest of her life, and still yet, she was nothing more than a small bird being caged in, her wings clipped from flight.

Her soliloquized thoughts ended abruptly, as the handle of the door, as if known it was previously acknowledged, gently twisted until it opened, revealing a stout but firm old woman, her eyes no more kind than the patients eyes were happy.

"Breakfast," The old nurse grunted, and nearly slammed the tray at the foot of the bed, Grace being forced to eat it sitting at the head, facing the window and not looking back.

Grace frowned at the nurse and gave her a steely look, but the nurse paid no attention. She wasn't paid to be tried by difficult patients.

"Don't frown kiddo, now eat up, you need your strength." The woman told Grace tapping her foot on the tile floor.

Grace crossed her arms over her chest, facing away from the nurse. "Look, I've had a long day already and it's only 8am. Please eat." She lowered her voice, trying to sooth the little girl. Grace didn't move.

The nurse leaned in closer to Grace, looking over her shoulder to check that no one was looking, then hissed at Grace, "Look you little worm, eat your food or else!"

Grace slid backwards, away from the nurse, totally shocked that anyone would talk to her like that. Not even her father ever talked to her like that…

The nurse smiled, but Grace could see the frustration in her eyes. Grace felt a sudden rush of familiar fear tear though her, and she closed her eyes, feeling them welling up with tears. The nurse sighed, "_Stop it_." She ordered in a quiet voice.

Grace didn't understand, she'd done nothing wrong, why was this nurse being so horrible to her? Grace opened her eyes only to see the nurse's face close to hers. She was terrified and she did the only thing she could – she spat in the nurse's face.

The nurse sat, stunned, for only a moment before she cried out herself.

"Damn you, you crazed lunatics! I know the world would be better off without you!"

Soon, the room wasn't only occupied by the nurse and Grace – but by at least half a dozen other adults came and stood in the doorframe.

Murmurs were heard eloquently to the young girl, who knew she was in trouble, but not of what sort.

"It'd happen eventually," One doctor said, stepping forward, his bright red hair contrasting crazily with the white walls. "Let me handle her." His voice was nearly a monotone, but it was equipped with some kind of hint of a tone she couldn't quite identify.

And somehow, the malicious glint in his amber eyes didn't quite calm her nerves.

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**A/N: Sorry if it's a bit confusing, but I needed to show what Grace is thinking and everything, and why Rachel said at the end of last chapter, "I won't let them hurt you again." It'll all make sense later! R&R**


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: I'm totally turning Grace into this wacked-out little kid, but there's a damn good and very disturbing reason coming up as to why Grace is like the way she is! I'm going away for 4 days, so I can't update in those days but I promise more after that!

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**Chapter 10**

"Let go of her Grace! I'm warning you, you may be a kid but if you keep this up…" Grace looked around, her fierce dark eyes piercing into the doctors'. Her eyes flicked side to side like a wild animal hunting for its dinner, muscles coiled ready to spring away at any sudden movement.

Grace may be small, but she packed a punch, a wild, fierce ambition that she'd built up from her six months in the hospital. She called it her prison, where she was serving out her sentence. They'd never let her go; she knew that, not unless she talked. And Grace knew that wasn't going to happen any time soon. Grace shifted her grip on the young nurse, the butter knife inches from the woman's neck. The nurse looked worried, not so much afraid, but unsure about the situation. After all, a nine years old girl was holding her hostage, how sure could you feel about anything?

Grace wasn't that strong, but she held the upper hand here. She had the smarts to get out of this situation, she'd learnt from the best.

Grace eyed off the door, only 20 ft or so away. It's so close, all she had to do was make a dash towards it then she'd be free. She looked around and counted only four guards in various places around her, they wouldn't do anything to hurt her and they didn't see her as a real threat, she was only 9-years-old after all.

The four guards around her are tying to bargain with her, talk her out of hurting the nurse with her knife, but Grace didn't want to hear it. She was terrified and she needed to get out of this place. Now.

The nurse struggles, hissing colorful words at little Grace, trying to get away, but obviously a little worried about the knife pressing against her neck. Butter knife or not, those things could do damage if you wanted them to. The guards exchanged looks, one of them darting from Grace's view; she spun around then felt a hand grab her arm. Grace jumped, pulling away as hard as she could but in the process dropping the butter knife. Grace hissed and growled at the guard as she nurse stepped away from Grace.

"Mongrel…" she muttered at Grace, throwing her a dirty look.

Grace growled once more, the guard grabbing her around the middle. She trashed around, kicking her legs as hard as she could.

"Stop it kiddo!" the guard exclaimed as her bare feet came in contact with his shins. He lifted her up, Grace digging her nails into his arm violently. The guard cursed, almost dropping Grace. Her almost black curly hair dangling in her face, Grace making no effort to push it aside. Her dark eyes shone with tears and fear, but she stood her ground. She gave one last furious kick, the guard dropping Grace and wincing. She'd got him in the groin, the guard doubled over in pain.

Grace scampered aside, diving under chairs as hands tried to grab her from every direction. She had her back to the wall, trapped like a wild animal in a cage. Grace looked around for an escape route but she was blocked in every direction.

Suddenly the front doors swung open, a delivery man pushing a trolley filled with boxes entering. The guard that Grace kicked in the groin turned around to the noise, waving his arms around, "No! Quick, close the door!" he exclaimed.

But he was too slow, Grace sprung out from her place by the wall, running as fast as she could. She got to the entrance, the delivery man making a pathetic attempt to grab her, his arms swinging close to Grace. The delivery man reached out, grabbing Grace by the sleeve of her white nightgown. Grace growled again, diving at the man and sinking her teeth into his arm. He screamed at the top of his voice and threw Grace aside, her tiny frame skidding along the floor. She gasped for a split second then jumped out, making her dash for freedom.

Grace ran through the parking lot, swerving around cars and heading for the tree edge. The guard dashed after her, a shocked look on his face at the thought of this little girl could act so violently. Grace ran faster until she was deep in the scrub, out of sight.

She didn't stop running until she felt she was safe, taking a look around her. She could see the sun shining brightly through the gaps in the trees, but other than that the landscape was thick with tall pines and brambles. Grace sat down, rubbing the bottoms of her bare feet as they throbbed. Her white nightgown clung to her tiny body, sticky with perspiration. She stood up once more, heading off in the direction of the sun. It was past midday, Grace could tell that from the sun's position, but she had no idea where she was. She walked slowly until she regained her breath, pushing her dark hair out of her face.

Grace felt around her neck, _it's still there_, she thought with relief. She undid the necklace from her neck and looked at it. She'd always loved it, even though she had never understood it. The charm was gold, a delicate circle with a star in the middle, like two crossed over triangles. _The Star of David_ it was called. Grace's father had given it to her when she was a few months old; he'd gotten it overseas somewhere. Grace had never asked where, and her father had never told her. Her father was an intensely private man and never told anyone more than he needed to. Grace didn't mind, she loved her necklace because it was pretty. That's all. And it reminded her of happier times…

She headed off towards the slowly descending sun, the Star of David necklace sparkling around her neck.

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**A/N: So what's the significance of Grace's necklace? R&R **


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Not mine.

A/N: I am so, so, so sorry for not updating sooner! I had my final exams at school and really couldn't afford to spend anytime catching up on this story. Although I did come up with more ideas which I **promise**you will be shocking! They'll be answers, lots of them, but also a bit more mystery! So please people, any ideas you have, anything at all, would be greatly appreciated so I can get this story out quicker! Gracias amigo!

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**Chapter 11**

Tony clutched the phone to his ear, unsure if what he heard was right. _Grace escaped from the hospital._

"Tony? Are you still there?"

Tony snapped to attention, "Sorry Rachel, I'm here." He sat up straighter in his chair, flicking on the lamp beside him, the glow suddenly illuminating the immediate area around Tony. Rachel talked some more but Tony barely heard her. He wasn't sure of what he was feeling right now, he was confused by all the emotions inside of him. He felt this sudden protectiveness over Grace, something that he wasn't used to. He hadn't even really met the little girl, but he felt a connection to her. It was the same feeling he had when he met Kate, she was so beautiful, and Tony felt like he needed to protect something so beautiful. Grace, 9-years-old and having already been through so much, her innocence wiped away. He needed to find her and protect her, for Kate's sake and for his own sanity.

"Do you want me to call someone, local PD or something?" Rachel asked.

"Um, no, don't do that. I'll head over to the hospital and see what I can do." Tony answered, hopping out of the chair and in one swift movement grabbing his car keys and heading out of the door. He paused as he grabbed the door handle, spying the photo that Rachel had given him of Kate and himself, in better times. He picked it up off the counter and headed out the door.

Tony's car still wasn't repaired from the crash, so he still had the rental. He hopped in the car, placing the photo on the dashboard in front of him. He pulled out of the parking space in a hurry, pressing the accelerator as he sped around the corner.

It was around 4pm and the sun was slowly setting, casting an eerie glow over the horizon. Soon it would be dark and it would get icy cold, too cold for anyone to survive in below zero temperatures. Especially a little girl wearing a thin nightgown and in bare feet. He knew that there were search parties out looking for Grace, no-one was going to take the risk of leaving her out there in these conditions, but Tony felt he needed to be there as well, to feel like he was accomplishing something.

He pulled into the hospital grounds, parking the car in a vacant spot and got out of his car.

"I was wondering when you were going to get here."

Tony turned around to find Gibbs standing next to him, coffee cup in hand. "Boss, what are you doing here?"

Gibbs shrugged, "Heard the kid had escaped from the hospital, came to see if there was anything I could do."

Tony frowned, "But Boss, there's no military connection…"

Gibbs nodded, "Yup." He took the lid off his coffee cup, and upon seeing it empty threw it over his shoulder, landing it neatly in a nearby trash can.

"So there's nothing you can investigate."

Gibbs rolled his eyes, "Ya think?" he lowered his voice, "I wanted to see if you were okay. I know that this kid means something to you."

Tony smiled, "Thanks Boss."

"You know I'd help you if I could DiNozzo."

Tony nodded, "I know, no military connection… I understand. There's no need to justify yourself Boss."

Gibbs scoffed, "That's not at all what I'm doing Tony. If I could help you I - "

"I'll help."

Tony turned around, surprised to see Ziva standing there, "What?" he asked.

Ziva stepped up to him, "This little girl, Grace, I'll help you find her. I have significant experience in the area of tracking."

Tony shot a questioning look at Gibbs, he shrugged, "I was going to tell you, but Director Sheppard didn't see the need until you came back from your break."

Tony directed his gaze towards Ziva, "What are you doing here?"

Ziva smiled, "I'm on your team."

Tony shook his head, "No, I mean, what are you doing HERE?"

"I told you, I want to help. Anyway, I'm owed a few favours from people, I'm sure we can find Grace in no time." Ziva smiled at Tony. He hesitated for a second then returned the smile.

"Sure. Why not…"

Ziva smiled again, "Good, we'll go now."

Tony looked from Gibbs to Ziva, "Do you two know more than I do?

Gibbs nodded, "We've already done the hard part. Grace slipped out around midday and headed for the scrub," he pointed off to his left, "just over there. Now I don't want you to go tearing through the trees looking for her, okay DiNozzo?"

"But Boss…" Tony began.

"DiNozzo, a little girl was spotted by some city workers in the middle of D.C. a few hours ago. They say they saw a young girl in a white gown running past the station on the corner of 15th and 10th Street," he paused, "Tony… that's where Kate's old apartment is."

Tony spun around, flinging open his car door and jumping in. "You gonna get in?" he asked Ziva. She went around to the other side of the car and hopped in.

Tony gave a smile in thanks to Gibbs and sped off in the direction he knew so well. He'd travelled this path so many times after Kate's death. He would just sit in his car and stare at her apartment, wishing that he'd been here earlier to wait for her, before it was too late. There was nothing he could do now.

He just hoped that Grace would be alright.

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**A/N: I know it's short, but I needed something short with Gibbs and Zivajust to fill it in. This is a pretty crappy chapter but I haven't updated in a month so I thought that it's better than nothing... More (better stuff)coming soon! R&R**


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the show.

A/N: Here ya go, chapter 12 up and running, thanks so much for your reviews and I promise to make it up to you for not updating for so long! xxoo

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**Chapter 12**

Tony sat in his car outside Kate's old apartment, so empty and desolate, much like the way he felt right now. He felt this connection to Grace, and yet he hadn't even really met her. He regretted not talking to her that day when he and Rachel visited the hospital. Regrets, they really sucked, didn't they?

But right now he knew that there were more important things going on now than dwelling over 'what ifs', nothing could change what happened to Kate.

Tony glanced across at Ziva, she pulled her Sig Sauer out of her side holster and attached a fresh clip to the base of it. She then replaced the gun back in her holster and opened the door a crack. She glanced across at Tony who had not moved or spoken in a while, "You alright?" she asked with a touch of genuine concern in her voice.

Tony snapped out of it, turning to face Ziva. Her black hair was tied back in a quick low ponytail, a loose lock dangling over her face. She was very beautiful; Tony knew that, he wasn't blind. Just every time he looked at Ziva he thought of Kate, from a distance they had a resemblance, but otherwise they were very different. Ziva shifted in her seat, feeling almost uncomfortable as Tony watched her.

"Hey, did you hear me?" she asked, frowning at him. She hadn't known Tony for long but it was plain to see that he was acting strangely.

Tony ran his hands through his hair, "Yeah I heard. _I'm fine._" He snapped at Ziva. She was taken aback and turned away from Tony, getting out of the car and glancing at the road.

Tony winced; he didn't mean to snap at Ziva, it wasn't her fault. He got out of the car himself and followed Ziva; she had crossed the road and was standing outside of the doors to Kate's old apartment. "Ziva…" he began, walking up to Ziva to apologise. She looked at Tony, frowning slightly.

"Yes?" she asked. Tony opened his mouth to say sorry for snapping at her, but he didn't want to sound rude or unconvincing. Ziva stood there for a moment then turned away from him, opening the door to the building and going in.

Ziva was talking to a man near the stairwell when Tony got to Ziva. The man looked up at Tony when he walked up to them, smiling slightly. Ziva turned to Tony as the man waled off, "You coming or what?"

Tony frowned and nodded, "Of course, this is my business you know."

Ziva began up the stairs, following the man's directions. "Yeah? Could have fooled me."

Tony stopped, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Ziva kept walking up the stairs, talking to Tony over her shoulder, "Nothing, forget it." She kept up the stairs without Tony until he finally started again. They reached the landing and looked for room 108, Kate's old apartment. Tony knew they really should have a warrant, but Ziva didn't seem to have a problem with it, so he kept on. Ziva stopped in front of the door; it stood slightly ajar, a stream of light coming out of the door. Tony overtook Ziva, pushing the door open slowly and entering. Ziva placed her hand over her pistol warily and followed him.

He stood in the doorway of the empty apartment. It was mostly dark except for one corner of the room, the curtains pulled open. Light streamed in, lighting up one room where Tony and Ziva stood. The apartment had been cleared of furniture and personal possessions. Kate's family had handled all that a few weeks ago. He took a deep breath as he looked across to a door on his right, up the dark hallway. It was Kate's room.

There was a faint glow coming out from under the door as Tony walked up the hallway with Ziva behind him. He stopped outside the door, placing a hand on the doorknob. Memories flashed through his mind of the last time he was here. _Oh God I miss her, _he thought.

Ziva stepped silently up to him, placing her hand gently over his. He jumped slightly, not expecting that. He turned towards Ziva; she was looking up at him in concern. He pulled his hand out from underneath hers, Ziva stepped past Tony and opened the door herself.

Ziva stood in the doorway looking towards a space under the window. The room was vacant except for a few empty boxes piled up in the corner.

Tony walked up next to her, following Ziva's line of vision. "Grace?"

The little girl sat in the corner, her dark curly hair covering most of her face, her white gown streaked with dirt and grime. Her face was streaked with tears as she clutched something in her little hands. Her bare feet were tucked up close to her body and her arms were wrapped around her knees.

Tony bobbed down to Grace's height and shifted closer to Grace. She pulled her knees closer to her chest and tried to hide her face in the piece of clothing she was clutching tightly. "It's okay Grace, we're here to help you."

Grace lifted her head and looked at Tony, her dark eyes shone with tears and face was damp from crying. She turned her head to look at Ziva, who was standing behind Tony near the door to the bedroom. Ziva smiled at Grace, who smiled back. She then turned to look at Tony once more.

"It's okay Grace," he said again, "My name's Tony DiNozzo and this is Ziva David."

Grace's eyes suddenly lit up and she smiled, turning her head to the side as if in thought. She brushed a stray lock of hair out of her eyes and wiped her eyes on her gown. Tony looked at the piece of clothing Grace was clutching, he recognised it, for sure. He thought back to the day a few months back when Tony drove Kate back to her apartment after her car broke down. She was wearing a thin white top and pants and the weather was freezing.

"_Here, put this on, you're freezing." _

_Kate looked at Tony, his green eyes looking into hers. They were witting in Tony's car waiting for the rain to ease. Rain drummed against the car and the heater blasted out warm air, hitting Kate's face and blowing her dark hair back. _

_Kate hesitated before shaking her head, wrapping her arms around herself, "No, it's okay. I'll be fine" _

_Tony smiled, taking his suit jacket off, "Lean forward." He said to Kate. She hesitated then leant forward in the car seat, Tony draping his coat around Kate's shoulders. She pulled it tight around her, smiling at Tony, "Thanks." _

_He smiled back, "Anytime." _

_Kate looked out the window, the rain was easing slowly until finally it looked as if it was stopping. She looked at Tony who, without words got out of the car and headed around to Kate's side. He opened the car door, holding out his hand for Kate. _

"_You didn't have to do that." She said, smiling thanks anyway._

_He winked at Kate, "I know."_

_He closed the car door and reached out to pull his jacket over Kate's head as the rain slowed until it was barely noticeable. He placed his arm around her shoulders and led her towards the glass doors of the apartment building. He led her upstairs to her apartment door; she grabbed her keys out of her bag and opened the door. Tony stood in the doorway, looking into Kate's apartment in approval. Kate turned on a lamp in the corner, taking Tony's coat off from over her shoulders and handing it back to him._

"_Thanks, Tony," she said, smiling, "You want to come in for a minute?" _

_Tony hesitated, taken aback by Kate's offer, "Um…" _

_Kate smiled, "I'll be back in a second." She headed up a dark hallway towards a room on the right, pushing the door open and entering. Tony stayed in the doorway, not sure whether he should enter or if Kate would take it the wrong way. She did offer though, he thought. Kate came out of her bedroom with a red jumper in her hands, she pulled it over her white top, pulling her hair out of the way. The jumper, a rich mahogany red, looked so good on her, highlighting her now glowing cheeks and dark hair. She smiled at Tony when she realised he was watching her, still standing in the doorway. _

"_You don't have to stand in the doorway, you know." She said as she walked up to him. He smiled, "I know. I'd love to stay… but…" _

_Kate frowned slightly, "But what?" _

_Tony ran his hands through his hair, "I wouldn't want you to think I was staying for the wrong reason."_

_Kate smiled, "I wouldn't have asked you to come in if I didn't mean it, Tony."_

_He smiled, "Maybe next time." _

Tony snapped out of his memory, looking back at Grace. The jumper she was holding onto so tight was Kate's. The mahogany red contrasted against Grace's white gown and dark hair, her little hands clutching it tightly.

Suddenly Tony heard a clatter from out in the kitchen, he turned to look at Ziva who was still behind him. She nodded at Tony, heading out the door, "I'll go."

She pulled her Sig out of it's holster and peered through the door, then, seeing that the coast was clear, heading out the check out the noise.

Tony turned back to Grace, the little girl relaxed a little, her dark eyes watching Tony's every move. Rachel had said that Grace hadn't spoken in quite a while, and Tony doubted that he'd be able to get her to talk now.

"Grace, I want to help you, get you somewhere safe. Is that alright with you?" he asked her, Grace nodded without hesitation. She smiled brightly at Tony, who smiled back, glad to finally be getting the chance to talk to Grace. Grace relaxed some more, smiling happily at Tony.

Suddenly her smile vanished and she tensed up, Tony frowned, "What's the matter?" he asked. Grace's eyes flashed with fear as she looked up above Tony's head.

"**LOOK OUT!"** she screamed. Tony was taken aback, _she spoke!_

Grace scampered back towards the other corner, away from Tony. He went to stand up, turning around to see what Grace was so afraid of.

Suddenly everything went black as pain shot through the back of his head and down his back, causing him to fall forward with a thump. Blood oozed out of the back of his head as he lay still on the floor in an awkward position. A dark shape loomed over Tony, then turned his attention to Grace.

The man smiled at Grace, his blue eyes shining with anger as he bared his teeth in a grin. He cackled, "You're coming with me kiddo."

Grace scampered back some more as the man grabbed her by the arm. Grace screamed at the top of her lungs and fought with all her might. Tony opened his eyes a crack, everything was swirling around as pain shot though his head, the back of his skull thumping with pain.

He tried to lift his head but the pain was too much. The last thing he saw was a man grabbing Grace by the arm as the little girl screamed. Tony's head fell to the floor with a thump, the pain overcoming him.

Then everything went black.

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**A/N: Review! xxoo**


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the show.

A/N: Wow, I can't believe I'm up to chapter 13 already! But I've got so many ideas as to where this story is headed I don't know if I'll ever see an ending! ;)

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**Chapter 13**

Ziva turned the corner, her Sig clasped firmly in her hands, the safety released and her right index finger poised over the trigger. She pressed herself against the wall, listening for any sound.

She crept along the wall, senses on alert. Suddenly she heard a scream _"LOOK OUT!" _the voice screamed out. It was a female voice, quite young. It had to be Grace. Ziva stopped for a moment, _Hang one, Gibbs said that Grace didn't speak, she was mute…_ she thought. Ziva peered around the corner of the kitchen and looked up the passageway to the dark hallway, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of it. All was quiet again until she heard another scream, an ear-piercing scream that echoed through the apartment and beyond. Ziva stepped forward, pressing herself against the wall until she got to the bedroom.

She peered through the slightly ajar door, at first she couldn't see anything but when she moved further down the hallway the sight made her feel sick to the stomach. Tony was lying on the floor, not moving. A plank of wood lay next to Tony; it had smears of blood on one end and bloodied finger prints on the other. A coppery smell filled the air and Ziva knew it wasn't from the wood; the smell was too strong for that. She looked at Tony once more and saw the source of it – a wound on the back of his head was seeping blood. His hair was matted from the blood and more seeped onto the floor. Ziva knew that head wounds that looked severe were usually superficial, they just bled more. But without having a closer look Ziva couldn't tell for sure.

She took another look, past Tony, and saw a dark shape. She could tell it was a man, he was tall, about 6 ft, and had dark shaggy hair. He was leaning towards the corner where Grace previously was, speaking in a thick husky voice. Ziva couldn't hear what he was saying but he it sounded like he was making threats to little Grace. Ziva looked at Tony again lying so helpless on the floor and knew she had to do something.

She pushed open the door forcefully and drew her Sig, "Federal Agent, don't move!" she yelled. The man turned around, his dark eyes shining with rage, he was taken aback by Ziva's sudden appearance and spun around quickly.

He grinned slightly, chuckling to himself like he thought he had the upper hand, even if Ziva was the one with the weapon. She took a step forward, "Stay where you are! I want you to face the wall with your hands on your head."

The man did as he was told, facing the wall where Grace was cowering. She ducked out of the way as he turned around, scampering past Tony lying on the floor and out the bedroom door. Ziva kept her eyes on the man as he linked his fingers together and placed his hands on the top of his head. Ziva took out the handcuffs on her belt and stepped forward.

The man stayed still as Ziva stepped up to him. Suddenly, he spun around. Ziva was knocked off guard as he reached for the gun in her hand. Ziva dodged out of the way, raising her gun and ordering him to freeze. She stepped up to him again and got one cuff around his left wrist, but she was too late. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out, pressing it against Ziva's arm. A jolt of electricity shot through Ziva, the pain of it causing her to loose her grip on her gun. It fell out of her hands and spun across the floor as Ziva fell to the ground near Tony.

The man took the taser away from Ziva and placed it back in his pocket. Ziva felt weak from the pain of it as the man reached into her pocket and found the keys to the handcuffs. He undid the cuff from his wrist and placed Ziva's hands together in front of her, securing the cuffs to each wrist. Ziva was powerless to stop him as he stepped over her.

Ziva's back was turned away from Tony so she couldn't see if he was still out of it. She heard a scraping noise as the man pulled Tony to his feet and dragged him out of the apartment. Ziva lay still on the floor as she heard the front door of the apartment close with a bang; the man was gone, taking Tony with him.

Then she too blacked out from the pain of the electric shock, her eyelids closed shut as she plunged into darkness.

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**A/N: Sorry this chapter is so short but it was the perfect place to pause. Poor Tony and Ziva! What will happen to them? And where did Grace go? R&R! xxoo **


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from the show.

A/N: I'm on a roll guys! I have all these ideas so I had to get them down before I forgot them! Chapter 14 up and running, so hopefully soon we'll get a bit of an idea as to where the hell I'm taking this! Trust me, I don't know either, which is a bit frightening since I'm the one writing it! xxoo

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**Chapter 14**

Ziva opened her eyes, jumping up suddenly. She felt her hands bound together and her right arm hurt like hell. She sat there for a minute while she remembered where she was and what had happened.

Ziva sat up, moving carefully, testing her limbs and joints, trying not to cause any more damage. She tried to assess whatever damage her body might have sustained from the electric shock. Her insides felt like they had been fried and every movement caused great pain.

She turned her head to where Tony previously lay, only to find a red stain on the floor, a deep coppery smell coming from it – blood. A lot of it too, it scared the hell out of her to think that all that came from a wound on the back of Tony's head. She had gone off to investigate a noise while Tony was attacked from behind. The coward of a man had attacked him without any warning then turned on an innocent nine-year-old girl.

Ziva pushed herself up against the wall, her right arm throbbing where the taser had been pressed into her. She looked around for her Sig but it was nowhere to be seen. The thought that the man had taken her gun, and taken Tony hostage gave her a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She lifted up her hands to try to push her sleeve up, but it was no use, the handcuffs restricted her from too much movement. Not to mention the throbbing pain she felt.

The door creaked suddenly, opening a touch. Ziva saw a shadow bearing upon the door as the figure entered.

Grace slowly poked her head in the door, her dark curls hanging over her face. Ziva breathed a sigh of relief as the little girl came in, slowly walking up to her, her dirty white nightgown dangling across the floor, a large tear in the side of it.

"Grace." Ziva called out softly, the little girl's head popping up. She walked up to Ziva, obviously trusting her somewhat. She sat down next to Ziva, still clutching Kate's red jumper.

"Are you okay?" Ziva asked her. Grace nodded, her eyes filling up with tears, "Don't cry…" Ziva said softly, the little girl's tears stopping. She looked down at the silver handcuffs that had been so hurriedly forced onto Ziva's wrists.

"Grace, can you reach my pocket?" she asked Grace, motioning towards the pocket on her jacket. Grace nodded as she pulled out a set of keys. She looked up at Ziva as if saying, 'what now?' Ziva held up her wrists and asked her to undo them; she did do swiftly and easily. Ziva took the cuffs off, rubbing them where the medal had scraped against her skin.

"Thanks," she said to Grace, looking at the little girl as she looked up at Ziva with her dark eyes, "That was you that screamed out for Tony to look out, wasn't it?"

Grace looked down at the ground and nodded. "I was told you couldn't speak."

The little girl looked up at Ziva and frowned, shaking her head. "So you can speak?" Ziva asked, urging her on. She nodded, opening her mouth to speak.

"He…" she began. Ziva smiled, "'He' who?" she asked.

"Your friend, he's hurt." Grace said, almost in a whisper so that Ziva had to lean into hear her.

"Yes he is. Do you know who that man was?" Ziva asked her quietly. Grace frowned, looking down at the ground again and nervously fiddling with Kate's red jumper in her hands.

Ziva didn't think she was going to answer anytime soon, and time was of the essence. She tried another approach, "Can you think of where the man would have taken Tony?"

Grace looked up in surprise at the mention of Tony's name and nodded, "I don't know how to get there though."

"That's alright. What about you? Are you hurt?" Ziva asked her. Grace shook her head slowly, "I'm okay. He didn't get me."

Ziva rubbed her arm once more, wincing. She pulled up the sleeve of her jacket slowly, uncovering a painful red lesion. It was a small burn but it hurt like hell, Ziva's throbbing head not doing anything to make her feel better.

"You're hurt!" Grace cried out. She got up and ran from the room before Ziva could object, but came back in no time with a clean white cloth and another, damp one. She knelt down next to Ziva and placed the damp one on her arm. Ziva winced as the nine-year-old dabbed at her burn then picked up the other cloth, wrapping it around Ziva's arm. She fastened it at the back neatly then looked up at Ziva again.

"What's your name?" she asked as Ziva rolled down her sleeve.

"Ziva David," she replied, "and thankyou for that, you've done this before, haven't you?"

Grace nodded, "I learnt first aid from my mother."

Ziva tried to stand up, her head throbbing and her ribs suddenly started aching. She waited a few minutes until she regained her strength, pulling herself tenderly up. Ziva stood up, holding out her hand for Grace. She accepted as Ziva pulled the little girl to her feet. "I'm going to call a friend of mine who can look after you; you'll be safe with him."

"Promise?" Grace asked.

Ziva smiled, "Promise."

The little girl held onto Ziva's hand as she walked her to the door. "Then you'll find Tony?"

Ziva looked down at Grace then knelt down, "Don't worry Grace, he'll be fine. I'm not going to let anything happen to him, okay?"

Grace smiled, "I know you won't."

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**A/N: I know it's yet another short chapter, but I wanted to set up my evil little plan… mwa ha ha! Grace talks again, and _yes_ I've researched people who are mute, it can come back just like that, with no warning. They'll be lots of back story about Grace, and who the man is, and what the hell he's done with Tony! All in good time, my pretties:::cackles evilly: **


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS nor any of the characters from it.

A/N: I finally got off my lazy ass and wrote this chapter, and I know it's short but I didn't want to pack it full of too much or else I won't get a chance to write more the way I've planned. R&R

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**Chapter 15**

Tony opened his eyes slowly, they felt like they were made of lead as he struggled to peer out of the slits. His head was throbbing and the back of his neck felt damp, like someone had poured something down the back of his shirt. It stuck to his back as Tong tried to move, wriggling his fingers and toes to make sure nothing was broken. His movement was restricted, although he wasn't sure why.

He tried to open his eyes but all he saw was blackness. He moved his head to the side and felt the tug of a tightly bound material over his eyes. The material was light in colour but he could smell the pungent odour of motor oil on it. It was secured at the back in a tight knot, not leaving much space for circulation. The knot was firmly digging into the back of his skull, pressing against a tender spot, the pain becoming worse if he attempted to move.

He shuffled in his position, feeling the pull of rough ropes that secured his wrists together behind his back. He could feel the same pressure of the rough rope around his ankles, securing his to what he guessed was a wooden chair. When he moved there was a sharp grating noise which he recognised from when he was a homicide detective in Baltimore, he had to sit in an uncomfortable wooden chair when one of his colleagues got too enthusiastic with his revolver, puncturing a 5 inch hole in the back of Tony's comfortable office chair. There wasn't a spare, so Tony was left with an uncomfortable wooden chair that had chipped paint and sandpaper-like edges. The over-enthusiastic young officer was a probie, of course. It was lucky that Tony wasn't sitting in the chair at the time or else he would have a 5 inch hole in his back himself.

Over-enthusiastic probies should be the last thing on his mind, but for some reason they weren't. He kept thinking of the last thing he said to McGee, he couldn't remember the exact words, but the tone was still etched in his mind. He snapped at the young probie, taking out his anger on him. It wasn't his fault, and Tony immediately regretted taking his anger out on the young agent.

Tony stopped himself; he didn't want to think like this. He didn't know where he was, but it was obvious that he was being held captive for one reason or another. He tried to get the negative thoughts out of his head and concentrated on manoeuvring himself to see if he could get out of his restraints.

He wasn't going to give up this easily.

-------------------------

Tony slumped in his chair, realising that there was no point struggling, he would need the strength later if his captor came back. Unbeknown to Tony, his captor sat silently, running a silver blade along a velvet cloth, cleaning the blade until it shone in the stream of light trailing from a gap in the roof.

His captor slumped uneasily in a thatched wooden chair, one leg resting on a pillar that held up a retaining wall in the building. He reached calmly across the table for a silver flask, taking big mouthfuls of the alcoholic substance inside. He would need the extra boost for later.

Tony breathed deeply, using all his senses to take in everything he could, afraid to call out in case his captor was indeed present. He sucked in the crisp air, smelling a strange pungent odour. He guessed his sense of smell wasn't as good as it could be, especially with the blindfold wrapped firmly over his eyes, the stench of motor oil enveloping him. He couldn't make out the strange odour, and concentrated on his remaining senses.

He listened carefully for any indication of where he was being held captive, his ears picking up the sound of water draining slowly from a high place. The water dripped slowly, the droplets landing with a splash in a metal container, the hollow _drip, drip_ sound echoing throughout the building.

Tony sat uncomfortably, not sensing his captor sitting nearby. He sat quietly for what seemed like hours, the rope rubbing against his skin like sandpaper.

He felt his eyes drifting shut; the painful throbbing in the back of his skull, the gnaw of hunger, the rubbing of the rope on his wrists and ankles and the fear – they all swirled around inside him at this moment, painfully and slowly like he was being tortured.

His captor still sat nearby, years of pain and torture inflicted on himself were reaching boiling point. He had waited _so long_ for this opportunity – the opportunity to find his daughter again. He needed to find her, to explain to her why all these terrible things had happened over the years to her. He wanted to apologise to her for causing her so much pain, but, most of all – he wanted revenge. It was that little girl that had forced him into hiding, _forced_ him to do these things, and she needed to be punished. He was not going to let a little girl get the better of him.

**A/N: Yes it is a painfully short chapter, but there are a lot of chapters to follow this one, as I have decided to leave my other stories for a while and concentrate on Grace. I'll finish this story first before I concentrate on "Allegiance", "C Is For Cyanide" and "Goodbyes" – the last one has been witting there for _so long, _that I have to get a move on and finish that. There's also another story I want to start, a Stargate SG-1 story about Cassandra, also a Stargate Atlantis story about John and Elizabeth that I want to start – but I won't start _any_ of them** **until I finish Grace. R&R**


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: NCIS is owned by CBS, DPB and Paramount, no profit is being made.

A/N: I am such a slacker, I haven't updated Grace in… well, it's been so long I'm not actually sure. But I am so sorry for anyone who believed me when I said there'd be more chapters soon! --ducks and hides-- Well, I _have_ been busy – working would you believe, yes! I got a job!

I wanted to say thank you so much to my buddy Hannah who helped me get my muse back, which for a while there I thought was gone for good! xxoo

Anyways, please just R&R!

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**Chapter 16**

Tony sat bolt upright in the chair, feeling an electric tingle travelling up his spine. He spun his head around, breathing heavily as the blindfold pressed up against his head wound, the feeling of pain and adrenaline pumping through his system, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. The pungent smell of motor oil wafted through the air, a different smell to the oddly stale odour of the oil on the blindfold. This smelt fresh.

Tony shifted in his seat as much as the restraints would allow him, pausing when he suddenly felt something warm touch his skin – the sun. He had not felt the sun for what seemed like forever; instead his position had been encased in darkness, the coldness making his bones ache.

He sat tensely, almost jumping out of his skin when he heard the roar of a car engine approaching him. He sat still, afraid to move or speak, hoping, _praying_ that the car would pass. But it didn't, instead the steady _chug chug_ of the car engine got closer, then stopped, the sound of a car door opening, then silence. There was no sound for a few minutes, then out of nowhere a voice hissed into his ear, causing Tony to involuntarily jump.

"So," the gruff voice said, pausing for a second while the man watched Tony flinch at the sound of his voice, "Where is she?"

Tony swallowed hard, sweat pouring down his forehead and soaking into the blindfold. Tony remained silent, instead waiting for the man to talk again. He remained silent, and then out of nowhere the voice appeared again, this time hissing into his other ear. Tony's head shot around in the direction of the voice, "Who?" he asked.

The man chuckled, his quiet laugh turning into a gruff cough as he hit his fist against some metallic object nearby. He sound echoed around the building, then stopped. The man sniffed loudly, clearing his throat to speak again.

"I am not a patient man. Do _not_ screw with me," he threatened, walking around to the front of Tony and resting his palms on the arms of the chair that Tony was restrained to, "Now, I will ask you again, _one_ more time. Is that understood?"

Tony remained quiet, instead waiting for him to make the next move. He chuckled again, leaning in towards Tony, "_Where is she?_"

"I don't know who you're talking about." Tony replied, almost mechanically.

"Oh, you will. You _will_." The man said before leaning away from Tony, turning to walk back towards the car he drove in with. Tony could hear him opening the rusty car door, then slamming it shut. Tony could hear footsteps heading back towards himself as his muscles tensed again.

The silence was shattered as Tony felt warm metal pressing into his temple, then the click of the safety being released. Tony recognised the sound immediately, it was a Sig Sauer, the same gun Tony uses daily in the field.

"What are you going to do? Shoot me?" Tonysensed that this man was all talk, no action. He was wrong.

The man suddenly lunged forward, grabbing Tony by the shoulders. He held onto his shoulders, the Sig in his right hand, the grip unwavering. Then, as quickly as he lunged forward, he released his grip; instead untying the restraints that held Tony's arms behind his back, then lent down to do the same to the restraints around his ankles.

He grabbed Tony by the arm and yanked him to his feet, all without uttering a word.

"Whoa! Look, I can't tell you what you want to know if you won't tell me who you're looking for!" Tony objected.

"Shut up!" the man demanded, pressing the pistol into Tony's upper left arm.

"C'mon, I can help--" Tony began, only to have pain shooting through his arm, and before he knew what happened, the darkness washed over him and he passed out.

----------------------------------------

**_Two Hours Later_**

The restraints on his wrists and ankles were heavy, connected to chains that allow him movement but, he expected, not very far. The floor was cold and solid because the floor, like the restraints, were iron.The burning in hisleft armintensified when he moved, and as he waited for his eyesight to clear. Everything was blurry and his eyes watered when he tried to sit up, blood staining his clothes as he gripped his arm, his fingers digging into his flesh as the heat intensified.

Tony took a few deep breaths to try to calm himself, banging his fist against the metal wall in pain and anger. He released his grip on his arm, instead attempting to pull at the metal restraints as best he could, but to no avail. The chains were connected to the wall of the small 2x2 meter long cell, the only light a dim glow coming from underneath the heavy iron door of the cell.

He looked around the cell, but there's nothing but iron walls riveted together, no way out other than the thick iron door. He rubs his shoulder against his cheek, pushing the blindfold out of the way so it hang loosely around his neck.

_The bastard shot me!_

That was all Tony could think, all he could focus on. If he tried to think too hard his head throbbed and he had to stop himself from throwing up. All he could focus on was the anger; it was all he could do to stop himself from passing out again.

"Do you need another drink of water?"

Tony's head shot up, his eyes darting from side to side to see where the voice had come from.

"Who's there?" he called groggily, attempting to shift his head in the direction that the voice came from.

For a moment, Tony is sure he's losing his mind. "Kate?" he calls out hesitantly.

"Tony. Tony wake up, you're okay now." The voice says, and Tony is sure he can feel a hand resting on his forehead.

"You're still warm, I'll get you a wet cloth."

"Who are you!" He calls out, panic seeping into his voice. "What are you talking about?" the voice asks in return. Suddenly everything goes blurry again, his head starts thumping and he's thrown into darkness again. Only, this time the darkness doesn't stay, but it morphs into the familiar surroundings of his own apartment.

_"Anyway, the doctor says you'll be back to your old self in a week or so." The voice continues, hardly perturbed by Tony's silence, or the way he watches her with one eye half-open, "well, I hope you're not _too_ much like your old self," she gives him a wry smile as she places the wet cloth over his forehead. He reaches a hand up to hold it there, their hands touching for a split second before she pulls away. _

_She blinks at him from her position on the edge of the sofa, watching his expectant smile. _

"_Kate." Tony calls out, his voice raspy and he has to stop himself from coughing._

"_Yes?" she replies, almost as quiet as Tony, but much more hesitant. _

_He opens his mouth to speak, but the words get all jumbled up, "Thanks, for this I mean. It was stupid of me to open that envelope, put you… everyone, at risk. Just, thanks for sticking by me, it means a lot." he says instead, watching her drop her eyes back to the jug of water on the table. Kate reaches down to pick the jug up and pour him a glass, handing the glass to him, which he sips slowly. _

"_It's the least I can do, you've saved my butt enough times…" she trails off, instead reaching out to take the glass back from Tony and placing it on the coffee table. _

_Kate moves closer to him, taking the cloth off his forehead and placing it neatly on the coffee table. She leans in close to him, then unable to hold back any longer, pulls him into a deep kiss…_

Tony's eyes fling open; his breathing starts to get faster and faster as panic washes over him. He tries to move but the pain in his arm stops him from doing so and he lets out a pained cry.

"No! That wasn't what happened… It wasn't…" He stammers, his teeth clattering together as shock begins to set, the heat in his arm combining with the coldness of the rest of his body.

He squeezes the wound tighter, tugging at the restraints in a blatant attempt to loosen them.

He starts to shake, the ice cold travelling to the core of his body, making his bones ache like nothing he'd ever experienced before. "That wasn't… what… happened…" he stammered slowly, his voice trailing off to the end.

"Kate… I'm sorry, I love you."

Suddenly the sound of laughter echoes around the iron cell, "Ahhh, I see now."

Tony tries to lift his head to see who was talking, but the pain was too much. There's a loud screech as the iron door opens and a figure enters, standing over Tony. He strains his eyes to see the man's face, but everything's blurry and disorientated.

"What did you do?" Tony stammers slowly, his teeth chattering together as he battles to stay awake.

"It's the drug I gave you. It seemed to have to have the… desired effect." He replies, resting his hands on his hips as he looks down at Tony lying helplessly on the floor.

"What drug? What 'desired effect'?" Tony asks, squeezing the wound tighter until his knuckles are a ghostly white.

"Hallucinations. Now I have what I need." He turns to leave, half closing the iron door before Tony calls out.

"Wait! Please, tell me what you want and I'll give you what you need."

The man pauses at the door, "I don't think so. There's nothing you can help me with anymore."

"Please…" Tony asks, attempting to make the man see his side of it. He's in too much pain to argue, so instead waits for an answer.

"You couldn't protect Kate, what makes you think you can protect Grace?"

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**A/N: R&R peoples, and thank you to everybody for your loyal reviews, they mean so much to me! And thank you again to Hannah, I've finally got my muse back thanks to you! xxoo :)**


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from NCIS, because if I did I would NOT have put Gibbs through all of that in Hiatus! Ahem, no infringement intended. :P

A/N: I know what Gibbs says, that apologizing is a sign of weakness, but I really am sorry for not updating Grace sooner. I know there are people out there who have probably given up on me, but for those who haven't, thanks. I have a few other chapters that are almost ready, so I'll be posting them one a day for the next few days.R&R

Warnings: Rating for some bad language.

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**Chapter 17**

"Tell me what you want and maybe we could come to an arrangement." Tony said quietly, pushing himself up against the wrought iron walls. He hadn't heard or seen his captor in a while, but he sensed that he was still there, biding his time.

He heard the scrape of a wooden chair along the floor, then tapping as the soles of his captor's shoes clicked along the floor. Tony could see the silhouette of the man on the wall opposite the iron door.

"What is it you folks say? Oh, 'we don't negotiate with terrorists'." He cackled, his strange laugh echoing throughout the 2x2 cell.

"You're a terrorist?" Tony challenged the man, finding it strange that someone would actually call themselves a terrorist. The man's deranged, Tony decided.

He laughed, "Yeah, you'd like me to say that, wouldn't you? Because you think you're gonna get out of here, go back to your NCIS buddies and tell them you got a confession outta me. Well, you're dreaming, because I ain't a terrorist, and you ain't gonna get outta here."

"Who are you?" Tony asked, but got no response from him except for a laugh. This was all a game to him; he wanted to see Tony suffer. The silhouette moved away from the door for a few moments, then reappeared. He shoved a dusty photograph through the bars in the door, the picture falling to the ground near where Tony was sitting, up against the wall. Tony looked at the photo, then back up to his captor.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Have a look at it." He told Tony, who shifted over just enough to reach the photo with his good arm. It was the photo of a little girl, about five or six years old. She had light blonde-brown hair that hung loose around her shoulders and bright blue eyes that shone with happiness as she laughed. She was sitting on a swing at a playground, kicking her legs as she swung higher and higher on the swing, the moment captured in absolute precision in the photo.

Tony held the photo up, "Who is she?" he asked the man, but got no response.

He pushed another photo through the bars, it handing near where the other one had landed. Tony picked this one up too, it was a photo of the same little girl but this time she was accompanied by another little girl. He knew her in an instant, that same little girl with the curly hair that was so dark you could almost call it black, and the dark eyes. It was Grace. He'd know her anywhere. She looked different though, younger, but that wasn't all – she was smiling, her dark eyes, instead of looking sad and sunken, were bright and inquisitive, she looked _happy_ for the first time.

Suddenly Tony understood it all. "_You're_ Shane Rothman."

There was stunned silence, then a bang against the wrought iron door. Tony jumped, not expecting the sudden bang. "How'd you know that? He asked, then it dawned on him, "Rachel Miller. You've been talking to her, haven't you? That bitch!"

The door flung open to reveal Shane Rothman standing in the doorway. He was around the same height as Tony, but with fair hair that looked like he never bothered to do anything with it. He was wearing tattered jeans and sneakers with holes in them, and a dark sweater that looked like the only new thing he owned. Tony remembered what Rachel said about Grace's father and mother, that they were both heroin addicts and were more concerned about where their next hit was coming from than what their daughter was doing through.

Rothman was holding Tony's loaded 9mm Sig in his right hand. He pointed it at Tony, the safety still in the locked position. Tony didn't react, sitting unnerved against the wall, gripping his upper left arm with his right hand where the flow of blood had ceased, but it still burned from the deep wound in his arm and the scalding from being shot at point blank.

"And Grace is your daughter." Tony finished, feeling a surge of anger rush through him. This was the man who contributed to Grace's pain, her suffering.

"That's right. And the other girl was her best friend."

Tony nodded, "Ebony Miller. Six years old. Murdered."

Shane's eyes clouded over, "And you reckon it was me. You folks at NCIS. You think I killed an innocent little girl."

"Did you?" Tony asked, wanting to hear this man's response for himself even though his gut was telling him he already knew that answer.

"I ain't admitting to anything, and _especially_ not to that!" He shouted, waving the Sig dangerously close to Tony's head. Tony knew the best way to get out of this alive was not to bait him any more than he had to, it was like waving a red rag in front of a bull, the more you provoked the angrier it got.

"And what about Kate? How do you know her?" Tony asked, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

"Alright," Shane said, sliding down the wall so he was leaning against it, near the door. The door was only open slightly, and Tony knew that there was no way he'd be able to dash past Rothman and push open the door to freedom. He didn't know what was outside the room; whether Rothman was smart enough to have the place bolted down he was yet to find out. Plus the fact that he was holding a loaded pistol didn't exactly instill Tony with confidence.

Shane was silent for a while, as if composing his thoughts, then he finally spoke when Tony was beginning to think that's all he was going to say.

"You ain't getting out of here, so I don't see the harm in telling you a little about what's been happening, especially since you seem so interested," he grinned maliciously, showing his stained teeth, "That little girl, Ebony, was friends with my Gracie. She was always over at me and my wife's apartment, playing with Gracie. I didn't mind until the kid's dad turned up, telling his kid that she had to come home, that she wasn't to play with Gracie anymore. My wife didn't think much of it, but I was to find out later that Ebony's dad, Richard's his name, had gone to the cops sayin' that I'd been hurting his kid."

He paused, looking Tony straight in the eyes as if he was waiting for him to ask, _"Well, did you?"_ Tony kept quiet, deciding the best avenue would be to bide his time until help arrived. He knew that right now Ziva would have called Gibbs and he would have used all avenues to track down Tony.

_Oh my god,_ he thought, _Ziva! _He didn't know what had happened to her, had she gotten out before Rothman arrived? And what about Grace? Tony was sure that Rothman had come for his daughter, but he had been asking Tony where she was, so he obviously hadn't found her.

Shane continued, "You're wrong," he said, answering the question which he expected Tony to ask, but didn't, "I never did nothin' to that little girl. But that wasn't enough for the cops, they'd interrogated me, but since there was no evidence they had to let me go. I'd only been free for six days when they showed up at my apartment again, telling me that they wanted to take me down to the station for questioning, that I was a suspect in that little girl's _disappearance_! They held me for four days, interrogating me but they got nothing, then I was handed over to NCIS." He gestured towards Tony, glaring for a moment before continuing.

"The kid had gone missing, she'd been snatched in the playground, the police said. But Ebony's dad is a marine, and since the cops had looked for the kid for a few days and found nothing, Richard Miller demanded that NCIS handle it. Two weeks after she'd disappeared they found her body. NCIS thought I did it, I was their only suspect."

Tony frowned, "Is that why you're holding me? You think that by taking me, and what… you're going to call for a ransom? If you're not cleared then you'll kill me?"

Rothman laughed, "You're not as smart as I gave you credit for! You seriously think that's why I'm doing this? To clear my own name?" Tony remained silent, waiting for him to talk again. He hoped that by asking him that question, provoking him just enough, that he'd confess to everything. It seemed to be working so far.

"No, you see, that's where you're wrong. I don't need to clear my own name, all I want is my daughter back. You feds took her away from me and I want her back." He said in a quieter tone, his teeth clenched together in anger.

Shane stood up, pointing the gun at Tony's head once again, "Now I'm tired of these games. You tell me where my Gracie is or I'll put a bullet though your skull! Now tell me!"

He released the safety on the Sig and pressed the gun harder into Tony's temple, wrapping his index finger around the trigger.

"Tell me!"

Tony turned his head to look at Rothman, "I'm not telling you anything."

He pulled the trigger.

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**R&R! xxoo**


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from NCIS.

A/N: I'm reposting this chapter because I really didn't like the ending, or how it played out. So I'm fixing this one up, posting it, then I'll post the next chapter. I'm making a personal vow to write one chapter a day, or at least work on the story every day. Since I haven't worked on _Grace _for… a long time, I'm sorry if any of the facts are out of order, or whatever. If anything's screwed up, please feel free to point it out to me, I don't bite. :P

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**Chapter 18**

Tony squeezed his eyes shut. He was waiting for point of impact. It should have been instant; he should have felt no pain. Just blackness.

Instead he opened his eyes, seeing Shane Rothman in front of him. He took the gun away from Tony's head and started laughing.

He pulled the magazine out of the bottom of the Sig, throwing it in Tony's direction. Tony could see that it was empty, he'd been bluffing. He looked up at Rothman, who pushed the door open and stepped outside, fastening all the locks so that Tony was once again trapped inside.

"You bastard." He said, looking up towards the small barred window.

Rothman laughed once more, "See DiNozzo, it isn't nice to be played, is it? It could end in… life and death."

Tony could hear him walking away from the cell, dragging a chair closer to the door and a thump as he sat down.

"I bet you're curious about what Caitlin Todd has to do with all of this," he said, without waiting for an answer, "She was the NCIS agent assigned to investigate Ebony Miller's disappearance, she was the one to break the news to Rachel Miller when they found the body. After that the case was taken away from NCIS, to be handled by the FBI. Or so they said. It sounds like the FBI knows more than they're saying and they wanted the case for themselves."

Rothman paused; Tony could hear the chair scrape back as he got up, he could hear the beep of a cell phone turning on, then more beeps as Rothman punched numbers into the keypad.

"It's time," he said into the mouthpiece, Tony could hear him talking to someone on the other end but he lowered his voice so that Tony couldn't hear. There was a beep then a click as Rothman cut the connection, closing the flip phone.

He moved toward the small barred window and looked in. Tony was still propped up against the wall, still clutching his left arm where the slug had entered. He was sweating profusely; his eyes open to slits as he struggled to stay awake and conscious. "Pathetic." Rothman muttered under his breath, too quiet for Tony to hear.

Tony started shaking again, the cell was deathly cold and it didn't help that Tony had a gunshot wound. His eyes drifted shut and he slumped against the wall.

Suddenly, Shane Rothman's voice boomed through the cell.

"What's that?" Rothman shouted, undoing the bolts on the door and flinging it open. Tony sat up straight at the shock of being awoken like that, shifting backwards against the wall as Rothman approached him.

He remained silent as Rothman reached down to a silver object Tony was holding in his hand. It was Ebony Miller's necklace, in his daze and confusion Tony must have taken it out of his pocket, yet he couldn't remember doing it.

Rothman snatched the necklace from Tony's hand, holding it up close to his face so he could see it properly. The silver necklace and "E" charm shone in the dim light that entered through the iron door.

"How did you get this?" Rothman demanded, pointing the pistol at Tony again. Tony didn't move, the pain in his arm was too intense. Rothman shouted the question again, but got no reaction from Tony. He stepped forward, raising his arm to strike Tony with the butt of the pistol, but suddenly paused in mid-swing.

He stepped back, a wry grin spreading across his face, "It was Caitlin, wasn't it?"

Tony looked up, his eyes barely open as he struggled to stay conscious.

"I'm not telling you anything."

Rothman shrugged, "Maybe not yet," he lent back against the door, blocking any view of whatever lay outside the cell, "How about I throw a hypothetical at you? Let's say that Caitlin Todd was investigating little Ebony's disappearance, she got a tip from somebody that there was evidence relating to Ebony's disappearance, oh, let's say, a locker at a train station. But the catch was that the person who got the tip from wasn't talking anymore. That could cause a few problems, don't you agree?"

Tony knew it wasn't a hypothetical, Rothman was playing him.

"Cut the crap, Rothman. We both know what's going to happen to me." Tony said.

Rothman looked at Tony, seeming to consider what Tony was saying, "So, basically you want me to tell you everything?"

Tony started coughing, the pain becoming almost unbearable. But he didn't want to give in yet, there was too much at stake.

"You know, I think you're right. You're not going to last long, what's the harm?" Rothman slid down the wall, leaning against it as he twirled the pistol in his hand. The safety was still off, Tony noted, although it did little to instil confidence in him.

"Alright then, where should I start?" Tony watched him as he pulled the cell door closed behind him, then began pacing slowly.

"Ebony Miller," he began, "Cute little thing, a little blonde angel. The typical kid that's good at everything." The corners of Rothman's mouth twitched slightly, causing Tony to bunch his fists in disgust.

He ran a hand through his hair, the vile grin on his face gone. "I know what you think of me, and I know what you think I did. But I _swear_ I did not kill that child. I couldn't harm a hair on her head."

He went silent, his eyes clouding over as if he was thinking back. Or trying to remember something. He paused for a few minutes, remaining silent until Tony wasn't sure if he was going to speak again.

"So what happened to her? In your own words, of course." Tony asked, saying the last part in a bitter, sarcastic tone he'd heard Ziva use a few times when interrogating a suspect. It didn't seem to affect Rothman though. His confident composure was all but gone as he resumed the pacing.

He cleared his throat, "That I can't tell you. Not that I don't want to – I do. But I have my priorities, and one of them includes my daughter."

Tony drew in a breath, the cold sweat spreading over his body a clear indicator that he was close to passing out. He pushed himself against the wall in an effort to stay conscious.

"Meaning what, exactly?"

Rothman smiled, "Grace is very important to me, and I have to protect her."

Tony clenched his jaw as pain shot up his arm again. "Meaning _what_?" he repeated, Rothman's lack of information irritating him.

"_Meaning_…" he said, shooting an irritated look of his own at Tony, "…that Grace might not be talking, but she knows… things. I'm sure of it. She can't be blamed for this, she's just a child."

He sighed, stopping his pacing. "It was my fault."

Tony opened his mouth to reply, when the blackness began to overcome him.

The last thing he saw before he blacked out was Rothman raising his weapon, then the deafening sound of a gunshot, and a spray of pink mist covering the walls and floor around him.

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**R&R!! **


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from NCIS.

A/N: Thank you for your reviews everyone! So far I'm keeping to my promise, and working on _Grace_ every day – keep up the reviews and I'll keep posting!!

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**Chapter 19**

The figure stood over Rothman, her slender hands wrapped around the trigger of the gun.

Every muscle in her body tensed as her eyes locked onto the man's dark form, now still, blood seeping through his shirt from a wound in his chest. She tried to move, tried to prise her hands from the gun, but something stopped her.

Her breath was slow and shallow, and she knew that if she were to talk at this moment that the words would be barely audible. A tiny, frightened whisper that would sound more like a child than a grown woman.

She saw a shadow of a man on the other side of the tiny cell, and although she thought she recognised him, she didn't dare take her eyes off Rothman's deathly pale form.

Her eyes locked onto his chest, watching and waiting for a sign of life. There was none.

Her breath became more laboured and she struggled for breath, her hands began to shake as the gun fell to the floor with a clunk. She had barely felt it leave her hands.

Her legs went weak as she collapsed to the ground of the iron cell. She didn't notice the pain that shot through her knees as they struck the floor, jarring her violently and sending her against the wall.

Sobs echoed though the cell, but she didn't recognise the sound. It was if it was not her own voice, but an empty, hollow sound. It scared her. She didn't know why she was upset – she knew what he was, she knew what he had done.

She was about to close her eyes, to collapse on the floor when a sound made her jolt upright. A shiver ran up her spine as she suddenly regained control of her body.

Grace. She'd know what sound anywhere. The terrified, desperate sound of a child who had lost everything, yet seemed to have nothing to lose. Their eyes met as Grace shoved past her, the white billowing nightie sticking to her skin, her bare feet scratched and the nails on her fingers dark with grime.

Her eyes said it all, a single two-syllable word that would be forever imprinted in her mind.

_Rachel_.

Grace didn't need to speak to be able to say her name. It was all in the eyes, the terrified eyes of a child. Rachel had the sudden realisation that what used to be of Grace was no more. All that was left was a broken, hollow shell, now so seemingly immune to the world of evil. The world of lies, corruption, betrayal. And now death.

Grace flung herself towards her father's body, but stopped inches from him. Images flashed before her eyes as she tries to reach out, wanting desperately to save him.

The pain was evident. Grace didn't know why she wanted to save this man, only that without him he was alone. He was a monster. But once Grace was alone she would lose the only connection she had to the world.

----------------------------------

Rachel didn't know how long Grace stayed like that, staring at her father's body, her face almost void of emotions.

The only evidence that she felt anything was her eyes.

Rachel had seen photos of Grace when she was younger – but none as a baby. She remembered, years ago, how Grace's dark eyes would light up at the sound of her voice, and how her dark wavy hair would flow softly to her shoulders after Rachel had brushed it. Grace felt like a daughter to her.

In some ways bothered and amazed her how Grace's parents would ignore such a beautiful, happy child. Her father could be possessive of her, but it was a different kind of possessive love that most parents have with their children. She knew that Grace would tense up when her father entered the room, yet she never had the courage to ask her why he frightened her.

Grace's mother was a different story – a heroin addict, much like her husband, Melanie Rothman would have been beautiful in her youth. Now she looked old and haggard, despite her only being in her early 30's. She would ignore Grace, leaving her to her own devices whilst she lay slumped on the couch, needle in hand. It was no wonder Grace spent so much time with Rachel and her daughter, Ebony.

_Ebony, _Rachel thought sadly. She was such a beautiful child, almost identical in personalities to Grace, yet the complete opposite in looks. Ebony had soft blonde hair and huge cobalt blue eyes that always startled people when they first saw her. Those eyes and cheeky smile could get Ebony anything she wanted – yet she never asked for material things, not like you could expect a child to do. All she ever wanted was to be with her mother, and to play with her best friend, Grace.

Suddenly she snapped out of her daze at the sound of a small voice coming from nearby. She slid forward from her space against the wall, crawling forward on her knees. It was only then that she felt the pain in her knees from when she had collapsed only moments ago.

Rachel stopped suddenly as she looked towards Grace. The child was draped across her father's still-warm body, her tiny hands clasping the blood stained shirt he was wearing. The front of her once white nightgown was stained with crimson blotches near the hem, and a much larger red patch across her chest. Suddenly it hit her – the noise was coming from Grace.

Rachel reached out to Grace, trying to pull her away from her father's body, suddenly realising the full extent of what she had done. The child spun around, her face once again void of emotion.

All of a sudden, the expression on Grace's face changed as her hand came out and hit Rachel across the face. She spun back in shock, her eyes never leaving Grace's. Then, as quickly as she had hit out in anger, she slumped over and burst into tears. They clung to each other for what seemed like an eternity, their only thoughts on the body lying close to them, the life taken by Rachel's own hand.

Rachel barely heard the sirens, barely heard the voices, barely felt the hands pulling her out of the cell and away from Grace. The child began screaming, the noise so sudden and frantic that it sent shivers up Rachel's spine.

The police didn't offer explanations as to how they had known that any of them were there, but only concentrated on guiding Rachel and Grace to the police car, and of course, on Tony. Rachel barely noticed him lying there, yet was too shocked and traumatised to deal with the possibility of another life being lost. Grace noticed, however, and put up a fight with the young female police officer to try to get back to the cell – whether she wanted to get back to her father's body or to Tony, Rachel wasn't sure.

An ambulance was called as another officer tried to help Tony, but it was evident he was unconscious. Grace sobbed softly, the screams subsiding as she kicked out at the policewoman, torn between going back to her father and seeing if Tony was alright.

Guilt tore at her for not going to him sooner, but she was terrified that he would be dead – and that the silent promises she had made to Kate would be broken.

That alone was almost enough to tear her up inside, let alone everything else that had happened.

First Ebony, her best friend. Then Kate – her saviour, the only one who understood, who cared. And now, her father. The monster, but nevertheless, her father.

There were, of course, the events before that. Horrible events. But Grace never spoke of them, and remained quiet.

She never remembered the day she stopped talking, never remembered why or how it happened. Yet, to this day, she remained silent.

A perfect silence.

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**A/N: Please review! **


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from NCIS.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's been reviewing the story over the past few days! Here's the next instalment, please read and review!!

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**Chapter 20**

_**Three days later**_

Tony slowly opened his eyes, his vision blurring as he tried to move his head to gather his bearings. His mouth felt dry and his throat was sore, and his left arm felt heavy.

He blinked a few times, trying to clear his vision. It was then he realised he was in hospital again. He could see whiteness everywhere, from the curtains on the windows to the crisp bed sheets that lay over him.

Suddenly, he remembered what had had happened. It was in fragments, pieces of a memory he had longed to bury, but at the same time wanted to know what lay hidden.

Kate. The documents. The numbers. The so-called car accident. _Grace. _Ebony, Rachel and young Max.

Tony sighed slowly, letting his head drop into one of the crisp pillows piled around him. He raised a hand to rub the grit out of his eyes, then waited a few seconds for his eyesight to clear again.

Turning his head to the side he saw a figure sitting awkwardly in a hard hospital chair. She was wearing little if any makeup and her dark hair was messy and sticking to the side of her face.

Ziva, he thought. He had to smile – she looked actually peaceful for once, her head was turned to the side and resting on the chair, her knees tucked up to her chest and her socked feet were crossed and resting on the edge of a small coffee table. Magazines were tossed to the side and many had fallen crumpled, obviously where she'd started reading them and for whatever reason discarded them onto the floor.

Her clothes looked like she'd been wearing them for a while, as they were crumpled and stained, and Tony could see a faint red stain on the sleeve of her shirt.

He was watching her sleeping peacefully for a while when her breathing pattern changed slightly and one eye opened slightly. She seemed to scan the room, observing and taking in the surroundings before she came to rest on Tony.

Both dark eyes opened and she raised an eyebrow slightly, giving her an amused expression as she returned his gaze. Her gaze then fell to the doorway as she got up out of her chair, and wordlessly rounded the corner. He heard her call something to a doctor or nurse in the corridor.

A young doctor entered, stopping in the doorway for a second before his face lit up, "Agent DiNozzo, you're back in the land of the living, I see."

Tony frowned slightly before the doctor continued, "You gave us quite a scare there, we weren't sure if you were going to come out of that coma."

"Coma?" Tony asked as the doctor checked him over, shining a small light in his eyes and checking his heartbeat with a stethoscope that had been hanging around his neck. He didn't answer immediately, instead checking the screen of the monitor.

The doctor looked at Ziva, who was now standing next to Tony's bed, before giving Tony a questioning look. He then looked back at Ziva, "Are you two together, Miss…?" he asked.

"_Officer_ David," Ziva replied, "We - "

"- We work together," Tony said, cutting her off.

Ziva flashed Tony a look, and was about to shoot him a retort when she stopped herself.

The doctor continued, "Ah, well we only allow family members in the room outside of visiting hours."

"Its fine, Doctor. I want her to stay."

The Doctor sighed, before finally answering Tony's query. "You've been in a comatose state for the past two days, Agent DiNozzo. During that time you've also had surgery on that arm of yours. The surgeon managed to remove the bullet and repair the damage it caused, but you did lose a lot of blood. You were in a coma the whole time, but your stats were fairly stable, so it was just a matter of waiting to see if your condition improved enough for you to wake from the coma."

The young Doctor continued some more, going into detail about the coma and the surgery, and any other injuries Tony had sustained. He filled in the chart and left the room for a few seconds to consult with other doctors.

Once he had left the room Tony turned his attention back to Ziva, who had sat back down in the chair.

Ziva lent forward, reaching up to run a hand through her dark messy hair. The action only seemed to make it seem more untamed and messy, yet Ziva didn't seem to care or notice.

"Feeling better?" she asked him. Tony hesitated before answering, almost unnerved by the concern in her voice.

He nodded, "I think so. But I have a few questions."

She spoke slowly, almost hesitantly. "You want to know how you got here. And what happened."

"Yeah," he replied.

"And you want to know what happened at Kate's old apartment. And about Rachel Miller."

He frowned slightly, but she obviously caught the look. "And you want to know about Grace."

Tony didn't answer; instead his eyes just met hers. He wanted to ask all those questions and more, but something was stopping him. The look in Ziva's dark brown eyes was worry, and it made him feel uneasy. "It's Grace isn't it? Grace Rothman, did something happen to her?"

Ziva shook her head, the look of worry dissipating slightly, "No, she's alright. She's here in the hospital in fact – in the children's ward. She's not hurt… not physically anyway."

"Meaning?"

Ziva continued, leaning forward in the chair some more, "_Meaning… _she's under observation. That's all I could get from the doctors."

A small smile spread across his face, more relief than anything else. Then another thought hit him – if Grace was alright, then why was Ziva looking so worried?

"Ziva," he began, "Tell me what happened. _Everything_."

She sat back in the chair, just watching him with that stare that unnerved him slightly.

"Alright," she said simply, before beginning.

-------------------------------

Tony lay back in his hospital bed, trying to take in everything Ziva had told him. She sat watching him for a reaction, and he knew she was worried that he wouldn't be able to handle the whole story. Or at least, as much as she knew.

He turned to look at her, "Grace's father is dead?"

Ziva nodded, "Yes. And Rachel Miller - "

He interrupted her, "Rachel killed him?" he asked, repeating much of what Ziva had already told him.

"You're sure?" As he asked the question he knew it was rhetorical, as Ziva wouldn't have slammed him with that news without sufficient proof.

"And Grace Rothman was there?" he asked her slowly, not sure he wanted to know the answer. Was she there when her father died? Did she see him die?

Ziva paused, then told him that the investigation was a matter for the local homicide department – not for NCIS. They could get information, but of course some things would be kept from NCIS as it wasn't in their jurisdiction.

That, and the fact that Grace wasn't talking. At all.

Local PD had interrogated Rachel Miller, but each time they talked to her story changed ever so slightly. It might not sound like much, but it was enough to make the detectives wonder what it was that Rachel wasn't telling them.

Ziva also told him that Rachel was being held at the police station as she didn't have a lawyer. Apparently they had enough to charge her – a confession and witnesses that saw her entering the scene - but the police wanted more evidence as at this stage it was likely that if trialled, she would get off because of her past with Rothman and the trauma she had suffered with him as the main suspect for her daughter's murder.

Rothman's body had been autopsied by local PD, and the only thing found in his system was dosages of heroin – Shane Rothman's drug of choice. But so far, nothing suspicious had come up.

Ziva watched Tony as the information sunk in.

He took a deep breath before looking straight at her, "What about you, Ziva? Are you alright?"

Ziva lent forward in the chair, momentarily caught off balance with that question. She'd expected more questions about the case, or non-case. Whatever.

She gave him a smile, "I'm fine. I've been checked over, nothing serious." Her voice sounded crackly for a second, and Tony could have sworn he saw Ziva's eyes fill with tears for a second. He was about to ask her what was wrong when she stood up slowly, one hand clutching her side.

"Ziva? You okay?" he sat bolt upright, his face full of concern.

Ziva shot him a look, "Of course I'm fine. I just bruised a rib – I've had worse." He flashed him a small smile, trying to reassure him.

He wasn't convinced that's all it was, but the look on Ziva's face warned him not to push it any further.

The smile left her face for a second, yet she didn't seem to be in pain anymore. That, or she was damn good at hiding it.

"You should get some rest. The Doctor said I shouldn't be in here too long," she said, picking up her backpack before turning to exit.

She was gone before Tony had a chance to protest.

Or ask any more questions.

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**Please review!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters from NCIS.

**A/N:** I did some research, and at least here in Australia a "Code Grey" in a hospital is a dangerous patient, or a patient causing trouble – whether that be them being violent, abusive, etc. I don't know what the codes are in the US, so this will have to do. Oh, and this chapter is nearly twice as long as the others, and it's from Grace's perspective. Anyway, please read and review!

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**Chapter 21**

Grace bowed her head slightly as she stood on the opposite side of the nurses station, trying to avoid eye contact with the attending nurse. The nurse was warm, friendly and spoke softly to Grace, yet Grace felt uneasy around her.

Around all of them. The doctors and nurses in Ward 2H were unknown to Grace, but they knew of the young girl's history and her escape from the hospital less than a week ago. She had been transferred to another ward with the hope of settling her down, but the new surroundings did nothing to calm her nerves or make her feel any better about the situation.

A middle aged female nurse with slightly greying hair stood next to Grace, one hand hovering above her shoulder with the intent on setting the child. Every time she touched Grace the young girl flinched, and the nurse was aware that the last time someone tried to get close to Grace she had lashed out at them.

The nurse behind the clear, reinforced glass window said something to her colleague before reaching under the desk to press a button. Grace's head shot up and her dark eyes became saucers at the loud, intrusive sound, and she tensed slightly as the middle aged nurse gripped her shoulder to stop her from moving too much. The opaque glass door shifted slightly as the locking mechanism was released, allowing the door to be opened. The middle aged nurse placed a hand on Grace's back, leading her through the doors.

Grace braced her bare feet against the floor, attempting to back away from the doors as they swung freely on their hinges. The nurse lent down to whisper something into Grace's ear, but she heard none of it. All she could do was focus on the sign on the wall on the other side of the doors – PSYCHIATRIC WARD. Fear latched onto Grace as she tried to get further away from the ward.

The nurse tried calming her, "Grace, sweetie, nobody's going to hurt you. You're safe here. Now why don't you come with me and we'll find you some nice toys to play with?"

A whimper escaped from Grace as she pulled away from the nurse, her thin hospital gown clinging to her damp skin. The tail of the cerise dressing down dragged along the ground as Grace fought, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

The nurse behind the desk reached for the button on the intercom, ready to call a Code Grey emergency.

"No!" Grace screamed as the middle aged nurse tried to gently guide her towards the doors, bringing the nurses to a standstill. The middle aged nurse, with one hand still on Grace's shoulder, looked across at the younger nurse behind the window. She dropped the intercom, exchanging a look with her colleague, knowing that this young girl was supposed to be mute.

Grace stopped struggling, her dark eyes darting from one face to another. Her laboured breathing slowly began to regulate as she realised she was no longer being guided towards the place which terrified her.

Her dark, slightly curly hair hung down to her shoulders, small ringlets at the ends. Dark eyes peered out from underneath the dark hair as she watched the nurses silently, trying to anticipate their next move. It was one of the more useful skills her father had taught her, one that she put to good use. She felt a sudden pang in her chest, one of sadness and confusion at the thought of her father.

She shook her head, her dark curls trailing away from her face. The young blonde nurse pressed the button under the desk once more to release the doors, then slowly headed towards the young girl. She knelt down in front of Grace, reaching for the girl's hand. Grace watched her movements, anticipating what she would do next and preparing to defend herself if necessary. That was another skill her father taught her – when and who to trust.

Grace's eyes trailed to the small rectangle badge on the blonde nurse's uniform. The nurse followed Grace's line of vision, reaching to hold the badge up for Grace to see.

"Grace? I'm Nurse Alana Evans, but you can call me Alana," her vibrant blue eyes looked straight into Grace's as she reached for her hand, "I'm going to go through those doors over there, and I'd really like it if you would come with me. Is that alright, Grace?"

Grace's eyes darted up to the middle aged nurse, who smiled softly, brushing a lock of greying hair behind her ears. A beeping sound was suddenly heard as she reached for the pager at her waist. She looked across at Alana, who nodded silently at her colleague. The other nurse turned to walk up the corridor, leaving Grace with the nurse.

"I bet you're pretty scared, going through those doors. But you know what? The people in there are really nice, and no one will hurt you or make you do anything you don't want to do. Okay?" She smiled gently, giving Grace's hand a squeeze. Grace looked down at her hand – she hadn't even noticed the nurse taking her hand, she'd been concentrating so much on what she was saying. Grace frowned slightly, but didn't reply.

Alana motioned across to some plastic seats sitting along the wall, asking Grace if she wanted to sit down. Grace nodded, bunching up her pink dressing gown as she sat down. She tucked her bare feet under the chair and reached one hand to grasp the gold chain around her neck.

Alana looked at the necklace held tightly in Grace's hand. "That's a lovely necklace, Grace. Did someone give that to you?"

Grace looked across at Alana, then down at the gold necklace clasped in her hand. She opened her palm to show her the charm – the Star of David. She looked straight at Alana's blue eyes, then slowly nodded.

"Did your mother give that to you?"

Grace nodded again, this time without hesitating. Alana thought she saw a small smile twitch at the corners of her mouth, before frowning solemnly once more.

"Grace, I want to take you through those doors over there and introduce you to a friend of mine. She wants to talk you."

Something flashed across Grace's eyes, for only half a second, but Alana recognised it as the same look she had when she had first arrived at the ward. "But you don't have to say anything if you don't want to," she paused for a second and considered what to say next, "How about I call your mother to come sit with you while you're here?"

Grace spun around, a perplexed look on her face. "My mother?" she said in a quiet voice, barely a whisper.

Once again Alana was taken aback by the sound of Grace speaking, but decided to wait a while to ask her about the more painful subjects. She needed Grace to trust her first.

Alana smiled, "I'm sure she's worried about you. Wouldn't you like us to call her to come see you?"

The look on Grace's face was a combination of hope and curiosity, something the young nurse couldn't pin down. She waited in silence for Grace to answer, letting her think about it for a moment. The truth was, the hospital had a legal obligation to contact the next of kin whenever someone was admitted to hospital, and in this case it was Grace's mother. The hospital was well aware of Melanie Rothman's history of substance abuse, and whilst they were reluctant to contact the young girl's mother, they had an obligation to do so. Grace didn't have any known living relatives in the country on her mother's side, and all relatives on her father's side were either deceased or living overseas.

Grace looked straight at Alana, sighing quietly before nodding.

"Alright," Alana said, "How about we go sit down in the play room, right over there?"

She pointed in the direction of some opaque glass windows and doors with the words FAMILY ROOM printed on the door. Grace followed Alana towards the door and headed towards the brightly coloured room and sat down on the mauve sofa, pulling her knees close to her chest.

Alana handed Grace a blanket to keep warm and stuck her head out the door to speak to another nurse, then turned back to Grace. The young girl was lying on her side, her head resting on a cerise pillow that matched the colour of her dressing gown, the blanket pulled up to her nose. Alana couldn't see her eyes and didn't know whether she was awake or not.

Grace's eyes began to droop as the stress and pain of the recent events overcame her, the warm blanket wrapped around her and Alana's presence comforting her somewhat.

The next thing Grace knew she could feel a hand on her shoulder and Alana's vibrant blue eyes stared into hers. "Grace, your mother's here."

Grace sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and running a hand though her tousled hair. Alana kept a hand on Grace's arm as a figure appeared in the doorway.

Tall and thin with pasty white skin, the woman had her arms crossed and she was shifting from foot to foot. A loud cough rattled through her chest as a hand flew up to her mouth, bony fingers covering her mouth. Grace stared at her, taking in the shoulder length, red dyed hair with various coloured entwined in the strands, pulled back in a rough ponytail. Her light brown eyes darted around the room, unwilling to look at anyone, especially Grace.

Alana smiled, reaching up to brush a hand across Grace's cheek. "Grace? Did you hear what I said? Your mother's here."

Grace's eyes darted to Alana's, her dark eyes wide with confusion and uneasiness. The colour drained from Grace's cheeks as Melanie Rothman headed over to the young girl, standing next to the sofa Grace was sitting on.

Melanie didn't look at or acknowledge Grace, but turned her attention to Alana. "She right to leave 'ere?"

Alana began to speak when a small sound stopped her.

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

Alana frowned, reaching to place a hand on Grace's arm, but the young girl pushed it away firmly. "Grace, what's wrong?"

"It's all her fault. Everything's her fault." Grace pulled the blanket closer to her, manoeuvring herself so she was further away from Melanie.

"Grace, I'm sure whatever's bothering you isn't as bad as it seems. Your mother - " Alana began, but Grace cut her off.

"No! She's not my mother!" she pushed herself up so she was standing on the sofa, her hands pressed firmly against the wall so that she dropped the blanket, "She isn't my mother!"

Melanie rolled her eyes, stepping forward to grab Grace roughly by the arm, "Stop it, alright? You're makin' a scene." Then to Alana, "The kid doesn't know what she's talkin' about."

Anger flashed over Grace's face as she jumped off the couch, the cords of the dressing gown tripping her up and sending her sprawling. She landed on her hands and knees as Alana reached to help her up. This time Grace didn't resist, falling into the nurse's arms, tears running down her face as sobs racked her chest.

"She's lying!" Grace sobbed, "She thinks I don't know what she did!"

Alana tried to comfort Grace, looking up for a second to wave off a few doctors and nurses who had appeared in the doorway.

Melanie stayed where she was, still shifting from foot to foot. "Listen kid, you don't know what you're talkin' about!"

Grace stopped crying as she swiped at the tears running down her cheeks. She pulled away from Alana, watching Melanie with fear and anger.

"It was you, wasn't it? Daddy didn't do it – you did."

Melanie stepped forward, pulling Grace closer to her and putting a hand over her mouth to quieten her. Alana tried to stop her, but Grace had already retaliated, kicking out at Melanie.

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, lashing out at Melanie.

"Grace, please calm down." Alana tried to calm her, once again telling the doctors and nurses gathering in the doorway that everything was under control.

"No! I'm not going with her! She hates me, she'll do it again!"

Alana gently took Grace by the shoulders, looking her square in the eyes, "Do what, Grace?"

"She'll kill me. Just like she killed Ebony."

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**A/N: Please read and review!**


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